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THE  WOMEN  OF  THE 
CONFEDERACY 


In  which  is  presented  the  heroism  of  the  women  of  the  Con- 
federacy with  accounts  of  their  trials  during  the  War  and  the 
period  of  Reconstruction,  with  their  ultimate  triumph  over 
adversity.  Their  motives  and  their  achievements  as  told 
by  writers  and  orators  now  preserved  in  permanent  form. 


BY 

REV.  J.  L.  UNDERWOOD 

Master  of  Aris,  Mercer  University,  Captain  and  Chaplain 
in  the  Confederate  Army 


New  York  and  Washington 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1906 


Copyright,  1906 

By 

J.  L.  UNDERWOOD 


DEDICATION 

To  the  memory  of  Mrs.  EivIzabeith  Thomas  Curry, 
whose  remains  rest  under  the  live  oaks  at  Bainbridge, 
Ga.,  who  cheerfully  gave  every  available  member  of  her 
family  to  the  Confederate  Cause,  and  with  her  own 
hands  made  their  gray  jackets,  and  who  gave  to  the 
author  her  Christian  patriot  daughter,  who  has  been  the 
companion,  the  joy  and  the  crown  of  his  long  and  happy 
life,  this  volume  is  most  affectionately  dedicated. 


If 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I.  Symposium  of  Tributes  to  Coneederatd  Women, 19 

Tribute  of  President  Jefferson  Davis,  20 

Tribute  of  a  Wounded  Soldier, 21 

Tribute  of  a  Federal  Private  Soldier,  21 

Joseph  E.  Johnston's  Tribute,  22 

Stonewall  Jackson's  Female  Soldiers,  23  ,> 

Gen.  J.  B.  Gordon's  Tribute, 23 

General  Forrest's  Tribute,   24 

Tribute  of  Gen.  M.  C.  Butler,  C  ^O 

Tribute  of  Gen.  Marcus  J.  Wright,  ^25 

Tribute  of  Dr.  J.  L.  M.  Curry, 26 

Address  of  Col.  W.  R.  Aylett  Before  Pickett  Camp, 28 

Gen.    Bradley  T.   Johnson's   Speech   at  the   Dedication  of 

South's  Museum,   28 

Governor  C.  T.  O'Ferrall's  Tribute,  30  • 

Tribute  of  Judge  J.  H.  Reagan,  of  Texas,  Postmaster-Gen- 
eral of  Confederate  States, 32 

General  Freemantle  (of  the  British  Army), 33 

Sherman's  "Tough  Set,"  33 

Tribute  of  General  Buell,   34 

Tribute  of  Judge  Alton  B.  Parker,  of  New  York, 34 

Heroic  Men  and  Women  (President  Roosevelt), 35 

The  Women  of  the  South,  36 

Eulogy  on  Confederate  Women,  41 

II.  Their  Work,  70 

Introduction  to  Woman's  Work, 71 

•  The  Southern  Woman's  Song, 71 

The  Ladies  of  Richmond,  72 

The  Hospital  After  Seven  Pines, 73 

Burial  of  Latane,  73 

Making  Clothes  for  the  Soldiers,  74 

The  Ingenuity  of  Southern  Women, 75 

Mrs.  Lee  and  the  Socks, 77 

Fitting  Out  a  Soldier, 77 

The  Thimble  Brigade,  79 

Noble  Women  of  Richmond,  80 

From  Matoaca  Gay's  Articles  in  the  Philadelphia  Times,  . .  81 

The  Women  of  Richmond,  82 

Two  Georgia  Heroines,  83 

The  Seven  Days'  Battle,  83 

Death  of  Mrs.  Sarah  K.  Rowe,  "The  Soldiers'  Friend," 92 


0/ 


vi  CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

"You  Wait,"   93 

Annandale — Two  Heroines  of  Mississippi,  95 

A  Plantation  Heroine, ^ 

Lucy  Ann  Cox, 100 

"One  of  Them  Lees,"  loi 

Southern  Women  in  the  War  Between  the  States, loi 

A  Mother  of  the  Confederacy, 104 

"The  Great  Eastern," 105 

"Cordial  for  the  Brave,   106 

Hospital  Work  and  Women's  Delicacy,  107 

A  Wayside  Home  at  Millen,  ic^ 

A  Noble  Girl,  no 

The  Good  Samaritan,   no 

Female  Relatives  Visit  the  Hospital, in 

Mania  for  Marriage,   116 

Govern:nent  Clerkships,  117 

Schools  in  War  Times,    118 

Humanity  in  the  Hospitals,  118 

Mrs.  Davis  and  the  Federal  Prisoner, 119 

Socks  that  Never  Wore  Out, 120 

Burial  of  Aunt  Matilda, 120 

"lUegant  Pair  of  Hands,"  121 

The  Gun-boat  "Richmond,"  122 

Captain  Sally  Tompkins,  124 

The  Angel  of  the  Hospital, 125 

III.  Their  Trials,   127 

Old  Maids,  127 

A  Mother's  Letter,   129 

Tom  and  his  Young  Master,  130 

"I  Knew  You  Would  Come,"  131 

Letters  from  the  Poor  at  Home,  132 

Life  in  Richmond  During  the  War,    133 

The   Women   of   New   Orleans,    140 

"Incorrigible  Little  Devil,"  141 

The  Battle  of  the  Handkerchiefs,  142 

The  Women  of  New  Orleans  and  Vicksburg  Prisoners, 144 

"It  Don't  Trouble  Me,"   147 

Savage  War  in  the  Valley,  147 

Mrs.  Robert  Turner,  Woodstock,  Va.,  148 

High  Price  of  Needles  and  Thread,  149 

Despair  at  Home — Heroism  at  the  Front, 151 

The  Old  Drake's  Territory,  152 

The  Refugee  in  Richmond,  154 

Desolations   of  War,    155 

Death  of  a  Soldier, ., 156 

Mrs.  Henrietta  E.  Lee's  Letter  to  General  Hunter, 159 

Sherman's  Bummers,   161 

Reminiscences  of  the  War  Times — a  Letter,  "    163 

Aunt  Myra  and  the  Hoe-cake, 164 

"The  Corn  Woman,"   166 

General  Atkins  at  Chapel  Hill,  167 


CONTENTS  vii 

Chapter  Page 

Two  Specimen  Cases  of  Desertion,  167 

Sherman  in  South  Carolina, 171 

•  Old  North  State's  Trials,  I73 

Sherman  in  North  CaroHna,  I7S 

Mrs.  Vance's  Trunk — General  Palmer's  Gallantry,  177 

The  Eventful  Third  of  April,  178 

The  Federals  Enter  Richmond,   181 

Somebody's  Darling,  183 

IV.  Their  Pluck,  185 

, ,  Female   Recruiting   Officers,    185 

Mrs.   Susan  Roy  Carter,    186 

J.  L.  M.  Curry's  Women  Constituents,  191 

Nora    McCarthy,    192 

Women  in  the  Battle  of  Gainesville,  Florida, 194 

"She  Would  Send  Ten  More,"   I95 

Women  at  Vicksburg,   196 

"Mother,  Tell  Him  Not  To  Come,"  198 

Brave  Women  in  Decatur,  Georgia,  201 

Giving  Warning  to  Mosby, 204 

"Ain't  You  Ashamed  of  You'uns  ?"  211 

False   Teeth,    212 

Emma    Sansom,     213 

President   Roosevelt's   Mother  and  Grandmother,    215 

The  Little  Girl  at  Chancellorsville,  217 

Saved  Her  Hams,  217 

Heroism  of  a  Widow,    218 

Winchester    Women,    219 

Sparta  in   Mississippi,    219 

Women's  Devotion — A  Winchester  Heroine,  220 

,,- — -Spoken  Like  Cornelia,  222 

A  Specimen  Mother,   223 

Mrs.    Rooney,    224 

Warning  by  a  Brave  Girl,  226 

A  Plucky  Girl  with  a  Pistol,  227 

Mosby's  Men  and  Two  Noble  Girls,  228 

.  A  Spartan  Dame  and  her  Young,  230 

Singing  Under   Fire,    231 

A  Woman's  Last  Word,   232 

,  Two  Mississippi  Girls  Hold  Yankees  at  Pistol  Point, 233 

"War   Women"    of    Petersburg,    234 

John  Allen's   Cow,    235 

The  Family  That  Had  No  Luck,  235 

Brave  Women  at  Resaca,  Georgia,  237 

'  A  Woman's   Hair,    238 

.  A  Breach  of  Etiquette,  240 

,  Lola    Sanchez's    Ride,    241 

The    Rebel    Sock,    244 

V.  Their   Cause,    246 

Introductory  Note  to   Their   Cause,    246 

"When  This  Cruel  War  Is  Over,"  246 

Northern  Men  Leaders  of  Disunion,  247 


viii  CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

The  Union  vs.  A  Union,  248 

The  Northern  States  Secede  From  the  Union, 253 

Frenzied  Finance  and  the  War  of  1861,  255 

The   Right  of   Secession,   260 

The  Cause  Not  Lost,  262 

Slavery  as  the  South  Saw  It,   262 

Vindication   of   Southern    Cause,    263 

Northern  View  of   Secession, 266 

Major  J.  Scheibert  on  Confederate  History, 268 

VI.  Mater  Redivia,   271 

Introductory  Note,    271 

The  Empty  Sleeve,  272 

The  Old  Hoopskirt,   273 

The  Political  Crimes  of  the  Nineteenth  Century, 276 

Brave  to  the  Last, 280 

Sallie  Durham 281 

The  Negro  and  the  Miracle, 283 

Georgia  Refugees,   284 

The  Negroes  and  New  Freedom,  286 

The  Confederate  Museum  in  the  Capital  of  the  Confederacy,  287 
Federal  Decoration  Day — Adoption  from  Our  Memorial,  . .  290 
The   Daughters   and   the   United    Daughters   of   the    Con- 
federacy,      291 

A  Daughter's  Plea,  293 

Home  for  Confederate  Women,  297 

Jefferson  Davis  Monument,  297 

Reciprocal  Slavery,    299 

Barbara  Frietchie,   302 

Social  Equality  Between  the  Races,  304 

Dream  of  Race  Superiority,  308 

Roosevelt  at  Lee's  Monument, 311 


PREFACE 

It  is  remarkable  that  after  a  lapse  of  forty  years  the 
people  of  this  country,  from  the  President  down,  are 
manifesting  a  more  lively  interest  than  ever  in  the  history 
of  the  v^fomen  of  the  Confederacy.  Bodily  affliction  only 
has  prevented  the  author  from  rendering  at  an  earlier 
date  the  service  to  their  memory  and  the  cause  of  the 
South  which  he  feels  that  he  has  done  in  preparing  this 
volume.  His  friends,  Dr.  J.  Wm.  Jones,  and  the  la- 
mented Dr.  J.  L.  M.  Curry,  of  Richmond,  Va.,  made  the 
suggestion  of  this  work  several  years  ago.  They  both 
rendered  material  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  the  lec- 
ture which  appears  in  this  volume  as  the  author's  tribute 
in  the  Symposium,  and  to  Doctor  Jones  the  author  i^ 
greatly  indebted  for  the  practical  brotherly  assistance  he 
has  continued  to  render. 

Thanks  are  due  to  the  Virginia  State  Librarian,  Mr. 
C.  D.  Kennedy,  and  his  assistants,  for  kind  attentions. 
The  author  is  under  obligations  to  the  lady  members  of 
the  Confederate  Memorial  Literary  Society  of  Richmond, 
especially  to  Mrs.  Lizzie  Carey  Daniels,  Corresponding 
Secretary,  and  Mrs.  Katherine  C.  Stiles,  Vice-Regent  of 
the  Georgia  Department  of  the  Confederate  Museum, 
In  many  ways  great  and  valuable  service  was  kindly 
rendered  by  Miss  Isabel  Maury,  the  intelligent  House 
Regent  of  the  Museum.  To  his  old  Commander,  Gen. 
S.  D.  Lee,  now  General  Commander  of  Confederate 
Veterans,  he  is  under  obligation  for  his  practical  help; 
also  to  Gen.  Marcus  J.  Wright.  In  making  selections 
from  the  works  of  others,  great  pains  have  been  taken 
to  give  proper  credit  for  all  matter  quoted.  The  author's 
home  has  been  for  more  than  thirty  years  his  delight- 
ful Pearland  Cottage,  in  the  suburbs  of  Camilla,  Ga.  On 
account  of  his  afflictions  he  has  moved  his  family  to  Blake- 
ley,  Ga.,  while  he  himself  may  remain  some  time  for 


X  PRBFACB 

medical  treatment  here  in  Richmond.  The  book  is  sent 
forth  from  an  invalid's  room  with  a  fervent  prayer  that 
it  may  do  good  in  all  sections  of  our  beloved  country. 
Much  of  the  work  has  been  done  under  severe  pain  and 
great  weakness,  and  special  indulgence  is  asked  for  any 
defects. 

J.  L.  Undi;rwood. 
Kellam's  Hospital, 

Richmond,  Va. 


INTRODUCTION    BY    REV.    DR.    J.    B.    HAW- 
THORNE 

Richmond,  Va.,  January  soth,  ipo6. 

Only  within  the  last  two  years  have  I  had  the  oppor- 
tunity to  cultivate  an  intimate  personal  acquaintance  with 
Rev.  J.  L.  Underwood,  but  as  the  greater  part  of 
our  lives  have  been  spent  in  the  States  of  Georgia  and 
Alabama,  I  have  been  quite  familiar  with  his  career 
through  a  period  which  embraces  a  half  century.  Wher- 
ever he  is  known  he  is  highly  esteemed  for  his  intellectual 
gifts  and  culture,  his  fluency  and  eloquence  in  speech,  his 
genial  manner,  his  high  moral  and  Christian  ideals,  and 
his  unflinching  fealty  to  what  he  believes  to  be  his  coun- 
try's welfare.  No  man  who  followed  the  Confederate* 
flag  had  a  clearer  understanding  or  a  more  profound  ap- 
preciation of  what  he  was  fighting  for.  No  man  watched 
and  studied  more  carefully  the  progress  of  the  contest. 
No  man  interpreted  more  accurately  the  spirit,  purposes, 
and  conduct  of  the  contending  armies.  When  the  strug- 
gle closed  no  man  foresaw  with  more  distinctness  what 
was  in  the  womb  of  the  future  for  the  defeated  South. 
His  cultivated  intellect,  his  high  moral  and  Christian 
character,  his  personal  observations  and  experiences,  his 
residence  and  travels  in  Europe,  his  extensive  acquaint- 
ance and  correspondence  with  public  men.  North  and 
South,  and  his  present  devotion  to  the  interests  of  our 
united  country,  render  him  pre-eminently  qualified  for 
the  task  of  delineating  some  features  of  the  greatest  war 
of  modern  times. 

I  have  been  permitted  to  read  the  manuscript  of  Mr. 
Underwood's  book,  entitled,  "The  Women  of  the  Con- 
federacy." I  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  it  a  valuable 
and  enduring  contribution  to  our  country's  history. 
There  is  not  a  page  in  it  that  is  dull  or  commonplace. 
No  man  who  starts  to  read  it  will  lay  it  aside  until  he  has 


xii     INTRUDUCTION  BY  RUV.  DR.  J.  B.  HAWTHORNB 

reached  the  conclusion  of  it.  The  author's  definitions  of 
the  relations  of  each  sovereign  State  to  the  Federal  Union 
and  of  her  rights  under  the  Federal  Constitution  are  ex- 
act. His  argument  in  support  of  the  Constitutional  right 
of  secession  amounts  to  a  demonstration.  Bfis  interpre- 
tation of  the  long  series  of  political  events  which  drove 
the  South  into  secession  is  clear,  just  and  convincing. 
His  tributes  to  the  patriotism  and  valor  of  the  Southern 
women  are  brilliant  and  thrilling  without  the  semblance 
of  extravagance.  His  description  of  the  vandalism  of 
Sherman's  army  in  its  march  through  Georgia  and  South 
Carolina  cannot  fail  to  kindle  a  flame  of  indignation  in 
the  heart  of  any  civilized  man  who  reads  it.  His  anec- 
dotes, both  humorous  and  pathetic,  are  well  chosen. 

The  section  of  this  book  which  relates  most  directly  to 
"The  Women  of  the  Confederacy,"  including  Mr.  Un- 
derwood's tribute  in  the  Symposium  to  their  memory,  is 
by  far  the  most  thrilling  and  meritorious  part  of  it.  Into 
this  the  author  has  put  his  best  material,  his  deepest 
emotions,  his  finest  sentiments,  and  his  most  eloquent 
words.  To  the  conduct  of  Southern  women  in  that  un- 
precedented ordeal,  history  furnishes  no  parallel. 
Through  many  generations  to  come  it  will  be  the  favorite 
theme  of  the  poets  and  orators. 

I  need  no  prophetic  gift  to  see  that  this  book  will  be 
immensely  popular  and  extensively  circulated.  Its  aged 
and  afflicted  author  has  done  a  work  in  writing  it  which 
deserves  the  gratitude  and  applause  of  his  fellow  coun- 
trymen. 

J.  B.  Hawthorne. 


INTRODUCTION  BY  REV.  DR.  J.  WM.  JONES 

J.  WM.  JONES, 

Secretary  and  Superintendent, 

Confederate  Memorial  Association, 

109  N.  29th  Street. 

Richmond^  Va.^ 
January  2^,  ipo6. 

1  have  carefully  examined  the  manuscript  of  Mr.  J.  L. 
Underwood  on  "The  Women  of  the  Confederacy"  and  I 
take  great  pleasure  in  saying  that  in  my  judgment  it  is  a 
book  of  very  great  interest  and  value,  and  if  properly 
published  and  pushed  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  would  have 
a  very  wide  sale. 

Mr.  Underwood  has  given  a  great  deal  of  time  to  the 
collecting  of  material  for  his  book,  and  has  had  great* 
advantages  in  doing  so  in  having  had  free  access  to  the 
libraries  of  Richmond,  and  his  book  abounds  in  touching 
and  thrilling  incidents,  which  present  as  no  other  book 
that  has  been  published  does  the  true  story  of  our  Con- 
federate women,  their  sufferings  and  privations;  their 
heroism  and  efficiency  in  promoting  the  Confederate 
cause.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  it  is  worthy  of  publi- 
cation, and  of  wide  circulation. 

J.  Wm.  Jon^s. 


AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

One  of  the  last  things  the  great  Henry  W.  Grady  said, 
was :  "If  I  die,  I  die  serving  the  South,  the  land  I  love 
so  well.  My  father  died  fighting  for  it,  I  am  proud 
to  die  speaking  for  it."  The  author  of  this  volume 
fought  for  the  South  and  is  now  so  afflicted  that  he  can 
no  longer  hope  to  speak  for  the  South,  but  he  will  be 
happy  to  die  writing  for  it.  Not  half  has  yet  been  told  of 
the  best  part  of  the  South,  her  women. 

The  Apostle  John,  on  finishing  his  gospel  story  of 
Christ,  said:  "And  there  are  many  other  things  which 
Jesus  did,  the  which  if  they  could  be  written  every  one,  I 
suppose  that  even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the 
books  that  should  be  written."  While  at  work  preparing* 
this  volume,  Mr.  C.  D.  Kennedy,  the  courteous  State 
librarian  of  Virginia,  said  to  the  writer  it  would  "take  a 
whole  library  to  tell  all  about  the  Confederate  women." 
As  in  the  life  of  Christ,  only  a  small  part  can  be  told; 
and  only  a  small  part  is  necessary. 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  life  of  Christ  was  the  most 
tragic,  thrilling,  and  beneficent  life  the  world  ever  saw. 
And  yet  it  is  all  told  in  four  booklets  of  simple  incidents. 
Those  four  little  books  have  been  worth  more  to  the 
world  than  all  other  books  combined.  Neither  is  there 
any  system  in  the  gospel  record.  There  was  no  system 
in  Christ's  life.  It  could  not  be  told  in  a  consecutive 
biography  nor  in  a  scientific  treatise.  Science  and  system 
all  fail  when  it  comes  to  telling  of  a  life  of  such  love  and 
labor  and  sorrow. 

It  is  not  sacrilegious  to  say  the  same  thing  when  we 
come  to  tell  of  the  heroic  lives,  the  courage,  the  trials, 
the  work  of  the  Confederate  women.  We  can  only  give 
incidents,  and  these  Incidents  tell  all  the  rest. 

Fortunately  the  author,  while  a  patient  in  a  Richmond 
hospital,  has  been  strong  enough  to  search  the  libraries 


xvi  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  city  and  gather  material  scattered  among  the  Con- 
federate records  already  made.  With  them  and  his  own 
original  sketches,  it  is  hoped  that  a  contribution  of  some 
value  has  been  made  to  a  good  cause.  The  story  of  the 
Southern  women  is  worth  studying;  and  the  author  tells 
in  his  eulogy  his  estimate  of  their  great  virtues.  Then 
he  shows  that  his  estimate  is  not  from  partiality  or  igno- 
rance by  giving  a  symposium  of  tributes  from  others, 
some  from  the  North  and  some  from  Europe. 

It  may  surprise  some  that  so  much  attention  is  given 
to  holding  up  the  righteousness  of  the  cause  in  which 
these  women  labored  and  suffered.  Why  not?  The 
great  cause  ennobled  them,  and  they  adorned  the  Con- 
federate cause.  The  truth  must  be  told  from  both  direc- 
tions.   This  is  the  ground  idea  of  this  humble  volume. 

It  is  hoped  that  it  will  fill  a  good  place  in  our  Southern 
literature,  suggesting  further  investigation  on  the  same 
line.  It  has  been  a  work  of  love,  a  comfort  to  him  in 
the  days  of  very  fearful  bodily  affliction.  He  is  conscious 
of  the  feebleness  of  his  work  and  much  indulgence  is 
asked  for. 

The  author  deems  his  subject  a  consecrated  theme. 
And  he  rejoices  that  he  could  labor  at  his  task  amid  the 
consecrated  memories  of  dear  old  Richmond,  where  he 
has  had  the  assistance  and  the  smiles  of  encouragement 
from  the  noble  women  who  continue  to  keep  guard  over 
Hollywood  and  Oakwood  Cemeteries,  the  Soldiers' 
Home,  and  the  Home  for  Confederate  Women,  and  keep 
vestal  watch  in  the  Confederate  Museum. 

Not  a  line  is  written  in  sectional  prejudice  or  tainted 
by  a  touch  of  hate.  The  author  was  a  Confederate 
soldier.  He  hates  sham,  injustice,  falsehood,  and  hypoc- 
risy everywhere,  but  he  loves  his  fellow  men,  and  still 
bears  the  old  soldier's  respect  and  warm  hand  for  the 
true  soldiers  who  fought  on  the  other  side.  The  bar- 
barities of  bummers  and  brutal  commanders  must  be  re- 
pudiated by  us  all  that  the  honor  of  true  soldiers  like 
McClellan,  Rosecrans,  Thomas,  and  Buell,  on  the  one 
side,  and  Lee,  Jackson  and  Johnston  on  the  other,  may 
stand  forth  in  its  true  light. 


A  UTH  IR'S  INTRODUCTION  xvii 

When  our  broad-brained  and  big-hearted  President 
Roosevelt  has  just  stepped  down  from  the  White  House 
to  tell  on  Capitol  Hill  at  Richmond  and  at  the  feet  of 
the  monuments  of  Lee  and  Jackson,  his  great  admiration 
for  the  Confederate  soldiers  and  the  Confederate  women, 
it  is  time  for  us  all  to  take  a  fresh  look  at  their  heroic 
lives. 

J.  L.  Underwood. 
Kei^i^am's  Hospital, 

Richmond,  Va.,  April  ist,  ipo6. 


CHAPTER  I 


SYMPOSIUM  O^  TRIBUTe:S  TO   CONI^^DEIRAT^  WOMEN 


MRS.  VARINA  JEI'FKRSON  DAVIS 

From  her  invalid  chair  in  New  York  the  revered  and 
beloved  wife  of  the  great  chieftain  of  the  Confederacy 
writes  a  personal  letter  to  the  author  of  this  volume,  from 
which  he  takes  the  liberty  of  publishing  the  following 
extract.  There  is  something  peculiarly  touching  in  this 
testimonial  which  will  be  prized  and  kept  as  a  precious 
heirloom  throughout  our  Southern  land : 

HoTEiv  Gerard, 
12^  West  Forty-fourth  Street,  New  York, 

October  25,  1905. 
My  Dear  Mr.  Underwood: 

*  *  *  I  do  not  know  in  all  history  a  finer  subject 
than  the  heroism  of  our  Southern  women,  God  bless 
them.  I  have  never  forgotten  our  dear  Mrs.  Robt.  E. 
Lee,  sitting  in  her  arm  chair,  where  she  was  chained  by 
the  most  agonizing  form  of  rheumatism,  cutting  with  her 
dear  aching  hands  soldiers'  gloves  from  waste  pieces  of 
their  Confederate  uniforms  furnished  to  her  from  the 
government  shops.  These  she  persuaded  her  girl  visitors 
to  sew  into  gloves  for  the  soldiers.  Certainly  these 
scraps  were  of  immense  use  to  all  those  who  could  get 
them,  for  I  do  not  know  how  many  children's  jackets 
which  kept  the  soldiers'  children  warm,  I  had  pieced  out 
of  these  scraps  by  a  poor  woman  who  sat  in  the  basement 
of  the  mansion  and  made  them  for  them. 

The  ladies  picked  their  old  silk  pieces  into  fragments, 
and  spun  them  into  gloves,  stockings,  and  scarfs  for  the 
soldiers'  necks,  etc. ;  cut  up  their  house  linen  and  scraped 
it  into  lint;    tore  up  their  sheets  and  rolled  them  into 


20  WOMEN  OS*  THE  CONFEDERACY 

bandages;  and  toasted  sweet  potato  slices  brown,  and 
made  substitutes  for  coffee.  They  put  two  tablespoonfuls 
of  sorghum  molasses  into  the  water  boiled  for  coffee  in- 
stead of  sugar,  and  used  none  other  for  their  little  chil- 
dren and  families.  They  covered  their  old  shoes  with 
old  kid  gloves  or  with  pieces  of  silk  and  their  little  feet 
looked  charming  and  natty  in  them.  In  the  country  they 
made  their  own  candles,  and  one  lady  sent  me  three  cakes 
of  sweet  soap  and  a  small  jar  of  soft  soap  made  from  the 
skin,  bones  and  refuse  bits  of  hams  boiled  for  her  fam- 
ily. Another  sent  the  most  exquisite  unbleached  flax 
thread,  of  the  smoothest  and  finest  quality,  spun  by  her- 
self. I  have  never  been  able  to  get  such  thread  again.  I 
am  still  quite  feeble,  so  I  must  close  with  the  hope  that 
your  health  will  steadily  improve  and  the  assurance  that 
I  am, 

Yours  sincerely, 

V.  Jeeeerson  Davis. 


TRIBUTE  OE  PRESIDENT  JEEEERSON  DAVIS 
[From  Dr.  Craven's  Prison  Ivife  of  Jefferson  Davis.] 

If  asked  for  his  sublimest  ideal  of  what  women  should 
be  in  time  of  war,  he  said  he  would  point  to  the  dear 
women  of  his  people  as  he  had  seen  them  during  the  re- 
cent struggle.  "The  Spartan  mother  sent  her  boy,  bid- 
ding him  return  with  honor,  either  carrying  his  shield  or 
on  it.  The  women  of  the  South  sent  forth  their  sons, 
directing  them  to  return  with  victory;  to  return  with 
wounds  disabling  them  from  further  service,  or  never  to 
return  at  all.  All  they  had  was  flung  into  the  contest — 
beauty,  grace,  passion,  ornaments.  The  exquisite  frivol- 
ities so  dear  to  the  sex  were  cast  aside;  their  songs,  if 
they  had  any  heart  to  sing,  were  patriotic ;  their  trinkets 
were  flung  into  the  crucible ;  the  carpets  from  their  floors 
were  portioned  out  as  blankets  to  the  suffering  soldiers 
of  their  cause;  women  bred  to  every  refinement  of 
luxury    wore   homespuns    made   by   their   own   hands. 


WOM^N  0^  THE  CONFEDERACY  21 

When  materials  for  army  balloons  were  wanted  the  rich- 
est silk  dresses  were  sent  in  and  there  was  only  competi- 
tion to  secure  their  acceptance.  As  nurses  for  the  sick, 
as  encouragers  and  providers  for  the  combatants,  as 
angels  of  charity  and  mercy,  adopting  as  their  own  all 
children  made  orphans  in  defence  of  their  homes,  as 
patient  and  beautiful  household  deities,  accepting  every 
sacrifice  with  unconcern,  and  lightening  the  burdens  of 
war  by  every  art,  blandishment,  and  labor  proper  to  their 
sphere,  the  dear  women  of  his  people  deserved  to  take 
rank  with  the  highest  heroines  of  the  grandest  days  of 
the  greatest  centuries." 


TRIBUTE  OE  A  WOUNDED  SOI<DlER 

A  beautiful  Southern  girl,  on  her  daily  mission  of  love 
and  mercy  in  one  of  our  hospitals,  asked  a  badly  wounded 
soldier  boy  what  she  could  do  for  him.  He  replied :  "I 
am  greatly  obliged  to  you,  but  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  do 
anything  for  me.  I  am  so  badly  wounded  that  I  can't 
live  long." 

"Will  you  not  let  me  pray  for  you?"  said  the  sweet 
girl.  "I  hope  that  I  am  one  of  the  Lord's  daughters, 
and  I  would  like  to  ask  Him  to  help  you." 

Looking  intently  into  her  beautiful  face  he  replied: 
"Yes,  do  pray  at  once,  and  ask  the  Lord  to  let  me  be  his 
son-in-law." 


TRIBUTE  OE  A  EEDERAI,  PRIVATE  SOIyDlER 

There  is  no  more  popular  living  hero  of  the  Federal 
army  of  the  war  between  the  States  than  Corporal  Tan- 
ner, who  is  Commander  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Re- 
public. He  left  both  legs  on  a  Southern  battlefield  and 
is  a  universal  favorite  of  the  Confederate  Veterans.  The 
following  is  an  extract  from  his  speech  at  the  Wheeler 
Memorial  in  Atlanta,  Ga.,  in  March,  1906: 

"The  Union  forces  would  have  achieved  success,  in 


22  WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY 

my  opinion,  eighteen  months  sooner  than  they  did  if  it 
had  not  been  for  the  women  of  the  South.  Why  do  I  say 
this?  Because  it  is  of  world-wide  knowledge  that  men 
never  carried  cause  forward  to  the  dread  arbitrament 
of  the  battlefield,  who  were  so  intensely  supported  by  the 
prayers  and  by  the  efforts  of  the  gentler  sex,  as  were  you 
men  of  the  South.  Every  mother's  son  of  you  knew  that 
if  you  didn't  keep  exact  step  to  the  music  of  Dixie  and 
the  Bonny  Blue  Flag,  if  you  did  not  tread  the  very  front 
line  of  battle  when  the  contest  was  on,  knew  in  short 
that  if  you  returned  home  in  aught  but  soldierly  honor, 
that  the  very  fires  of  hell  would  not  scorch  and  consume 
your  unshriven  souls  as  you  would  be  scorched  and  con- 
sumed by  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  your  womanhood." 


JOSEPH  E.  Johnston's  tribute 

As  to  the  charge  of  want  of  loyalty  or  zeal  in  the  war, 
I  assert,  from  as  much  opportunity  for  observation  as 
any  individual  had,  that  no  people  ever  displayed  so 
much,  under  such  circumstances,  and  with  so  little  flag- 
ging, for  so  long  a  time  continuously.  This  was  proved 
by  the  long  service  of  the  troops  without  pay  and  under 
exposure  to  such  hardships,  from  the  cause  above  men- 
tioned, as  modern  troops  have  rarely  endured;  by  the 
voluntary  contributions  of  food  and  clothing  sent  to  the 
army  from  every  district  that  furnished  a  regiment;  by 
the  general  and  continued  submission  of  the  people  to 
the  tyranny  of  the  impressment  system  as  practiced — 
such  a  tyranny  as,  I  believe,  no  other  high-spirited  people 
ever  endured — and  by  the  sympathy  and  aid  given  in 
every  house  to  all  professing  to  belong  to  the  army,  or 
to  be  on  the  way  to  join  it.  And  this  spirit  continued  not 
only  after  all  hope  of  success  had  died  but  after  the  final 
confession  of  defeat  by  their  military  commanders. 

But,  even  if  the  men  of  the  South  had  not  been  zealous 
in  the  cause,  the  patriotism  of  their  mothers  and  wives 
and  sisters  would  have  inspired  them  with  zeal  or  shamed 
them  into  its  imitation.     The  women  of  the  South  ex- 


WOMEN  OF  THE)  CONFEDERACY  23 

hibited  that  feeling  wherever  it  could  be  exercised:  in 
the  army,  by  distributing  clothing  with  their  own  hands ; 
at  the  railroad  stations  and  their  own  homes,  by  feeding 
the  marching  soldiers;  and,  above  all,  in  the  hospitals, 
where  they  rivaled  the  Sisters  of  Charity.  I  am  happy 
in  the  belief  that  their  devoted  patriotism  and  gentle 
charity  are  to  be  richly  rewarded. 


ST0NEWA1.1.  Jackson's  femai^e  soi^diers 

In  the  southern  part  of  Virginia  the  women  had  be- 
come almost  shoeless  and  sent  a  petition  to  General  Jack- 
son to  grant  the  detail  of  a  shoemaker  to  make  shoes  for 
them.  Here  is  his  reply,  in  a  letter  of  November  14, 
1862:  "Be  assured  that  I  feel  a  deep  and  abiding  inter- 
est in  our  female  soldiers.  They  are  patriots  in  the  truest 
sense  of  the  word,  and  I  more  and  more  admire  them." 


GEN.  J.  B.  Gordon's  tribute 

Back  of  the  armies,  on  the  farms,  in  the  towns  and 
cities,  the  fingers  of  Southern  women  were  busy  knitting 
socks  and  sewing  seams  of  coarse  trousers  and  gray 
jackets  for  the  soldiers  at  the  front. 

From  Mrs.  Lee  and  her  daughters  to  the  humblest 
country  matrons  and  maidens,  their  busy  needles  were 
stitching,  stitching,  stitching,  day  and  night.  The  anx- 
ious commander.  General  Lee,  thanked  them  for  their 
efforts  to  bring  greater  comfort  to  the  cold  feet  and 
shivering  limbs  of  his  half-clad  men.  He  wrote  letters 
expressing  appreciation  of  the  bags  of  socks  and  shirts 
as  they  came  in.  He  said  he  could  almost  hear,  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night,  the  needles  click  as  they  flew 
through  the  meshes.  Every  click  was  a  prayer,  every 
stitch  a  tear.  His  tributes  were  tender  and  constant  to 
these  glorious  women  for  their  labor  and  sacrifice  for 
Southern  independence. 


24  W0M2SN  0:P  TH^  CONS'ElD^ACY 

GENERAI,  IfORR^ST's  TRIRUT:e 

There  is  a  story  told  of  General  Forrest  which  shows 
his  opinion  of  the  pluck  and  devotion  of  the  Southern 
women.  He  was  drawing  up  his  men  in  line  of  battle 
one  day,  and  it  was  evident  that  a  sharp  encounter  was 
about  to  take  place.  Some  ladies  ran  from  a  house  which 
happened  to  stand  just  in  front  of  his  line,  and  asked  him 
anxiously,  "What  shall  we  do,  General,  what  shall  we 
do?"  Strong  in  his  faith  that  they  only  wished  to  help 
in  some  way,  he  replied,  "I  really  don't  see  that  you  can 
do  much,  except  to  stand  on  stumps,  wave  your  bonnets 
and  shout,  'Hurrah,  boys.'  " 


TRIBUTE  OE  GEN.  M.  C.  BUTLER 

Who  of  those  trying  days  does  not  recall  the  shifts 
which  the  Southern  people  had  to  adopt  to  provide  for 
the  sick  and  wounded :  the  utilization  of  barks  and  herbs 
for  the  concoction  of  drugs,  the  preparation  of  appliances 
for  hospitals  and  field  infirmaries?  What  surgeons  in 
any  age  or  in  any  war  excelled  the  Confederate  surgeons 
in  skill,  ingenuity  or  courage  ? 

Who  does  not  recall  the  sleepless  and  patient  vigilance, 
the  heroic  fortitude  and  untiring  tenderness  of  the  fair 
Southern  women  in  providing  articles  of  comfort  and 
usefulness  for  their  kindred  in  the  field,  preparing  with 
their  dainty  hands  from  their  scanty  supplies,  food  and 
clothing  for  the  Confederate  soldiers ;  establishing  homes 
and  hospitals  for  the  sick  and  disabled,  and  ministering 
to  their  wants  with  a  gentle  kindness  that  alleviated  so 
much  suffering  and  pain  ?  Do  the  annals  of  any  country 
or  of  any  period  furnish  higher  proofs  of  self-sacrificing 
courage,  self-abnegation,  and  more  steadfast  devotion 
than  was  exercised  by  the  Southern  women  during  the 
whole  progress  of  our  desperate  struggle?  If  so,  I  have 
failed  to  discover  it. 

The  suffering  of  the  men  from  privations  and  hunger, 
from  the  wounds  of  battle  and  the  sickness  of  camp,  were 


WOMKN  O'e  the:  CONIf^DDJRACY  2$ 

mild  inconveniences  when  compared  with  the  anguish  of 
soul  suffered  by  the  women  at  home,  and  yet  they  bore 
it  all  with  surpassing  heroism.  No  pen  can  ever  do  jus- 
tice to  their  imperishable  renown.  The  shot  and  shell  of 
invading  armies  could  not  intimidate,  nor  could  the  rude 
presence  of  a  sometimes  ruthless  enemy  deter  their  daunt- 
less souls.  To  my  mind  there  has  been  nothing  in  his- 
tory or  past  experiences  comparable  to  their  fortitude, 
courage,  and  devotion.  Instances  may  be  cited  where  the 
women  of  a  country  battling  for  its  rights  and  liberties 
have  sustained  themselves  under  the  hardest  fate  and 
made  great  sacrifices  for  the  cause  they  loved  and  the 
men  they  honored  and  respected,  but  I  challenge  com- 
parison in  any  period  of  the  world's  history  with  the  suf- 
ferings, anxieties,  fidelities,  and  firmness  of  the  fair,  deli- 
cate women  of  the  South  during  the  struggle  for  South- 
ern independence  and  since  its  disastrous  determination. 
Disappointed  in  the  failure  of  a  cause  for  which  they  had 
suffered  so  much,  baffled  in  the  fondest  hopes  of  arf 
earnest  patriotism,  impoverished  by  the  iron  hand  of  re- 
lentless war,  desolated  in  their  hearts  by  the  cruel  fate  of 
unsuccessful  battle,  and  bereft  of  the  tenderest  ties  that 
bound  them  to  earth,  mourning  over  the  most  dismal 
prospect  that  ever  converted  the  happiest,  fairest  land  to 
waste  and  desolation,  consumed  by  anxiety  and  the  dark- 
est forebodings  for  the  future,  they  have  never  lowered 
the  exalted  crest  of  true  Southern  womanhood,  nor  pan- 
dered to  a  sentiment  that  would  compromise  with  dis- 
honor. They  have  found  time,  amid  the  want  and  anxiety 
of  desolated  homes,  to  keep  fresh  and  green  the  graves  of 
their  dead  soldiers,  when  thrift  and  comfort  might  have 
followed  cringing  and  convenient  oblivion  of  the  past. 
They  had  the  courage  to  build  monuments  to  their  dead, 
and  work  with  that  beautiful  faith  and  silent  energy 
which  makes  kinship  to  angels,  and  lights  up  with  the 
fire  from  heaven  the  restless  power  of  woman's  boundless 
capabilities.  When  men  have  flagged  and  faltered, 
dallied  with  dishonor  and  fallen,  the  women  of  the  South 
have  rebuilt  the  altars  of  patriotism  and  relumed  the 
fires  of  devotion  to  country  in  the  hearts  of  halting  man- 


26  WOMEN  OF  THD  CONFEDERACY 

hood.    They  have  borne  the  burden  of  their  own  griefs 
and  vitaHzed  the  spirit  and  firmness  of  the  men. 

All  honor,  all  hail,  to  woman's  matchless  achievements, 
and  thanks,  a  thousand  thanks,  for  the  grand  triumph 
and  priceless  example  of  her  devoted  heroism.  Appro- 
priately may  she  have  exclaimed: 

"Here  I  and  Sorrow  sit. 
This  is  my  throne;    let  kings  come  bow  to  it." 


TRIBUTE  OE  GEN.  MARCUS  J.  WRIGHT 

I  know  that  it  were  needless  to  say  that  the  character 
and  conduct  of  the  women  of  the  South  during  our  late 
war  stand  out  equally  with  those  of  any  age  or  country, 
and  deserve  to  go  down  in  history  as  affording  an  ex- 
ample of  fortitude,  bravery,  affection  and  patriotism  that 
it  is  impossible  to  surpass :  and  I  am  further  proud  to 
say  that  the  women  of  the  Northern  States  exhibited  in 
that  war  a  devotion  and  patriotism  to  their  country  and 
its  cause  deserving  of  all  praise. 


Tribute  oe  dr.  j.  e.  m.  curry 

[Civil  History  of  the  Confederate  States,  pages  171-174.] 

We  hear  and  read  much  of  delicately  pampered 
"females"  in  ancient  Rome  and  modern  Paris  and  New- 
port, but  in  the  time  of  which  I  speak  in  this  Southland 
of  ours,  womanhood  was  richly  and  heavily  endowed 
with  duties  and  occupations  and  highest  social  functions, 
as  wife  and  mother  and  neighbor,  and  these  responsibili- 
ties and  duties  underlay  our  society  in  its  structure  and 
permanence  as  solid  foundations.  Instead  of  superficial 
adornments  and  supine  inaction,  the  intellectual  sym- 
pathies and  interests  of  these  women  were  large,  and  they 
undertook,  with  wise  and  just  guidance,  the  management 
of  household  and  farms  and  servants,  leaving  the  men 
free  for  war  and  civil  government.  These  noble  and 
resolute  women  were  the  mothers  of  the  Gracchi,  of  the 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONFEDERACY  27 

men  who  built  up  the  greatness  of  the  Union  and  accom- 
plished the  unexampled  achievements  of  the  Confederacy. 
Knowing  no  position  more  exalted  and  paramount  than 
that  of  wife  and  mother,  with  the  responsibilities  which 
attach  to  miniature  empire,  the  training  of  children  and 
guidance  of  slaves,  each  one  was  as  Caesar  would  have 
had  his  companion,  above  reproach  and  above  suspicion; 
and  whose  purity  was  so  prized  that  a  violation  of  per- 
sonal dignity  was  resented  and  punished,  by  all  worthy 
to  be  sons  and  husbands  and  fathers  of  such  women,  with 
the  death  of  the  violator.  "Strength  and  dignity  were 
her  clothing;  she  opened  her  mouth  with  wisdom,  and 
the  law  of  kindness  was  on  her  tongue.  She  looked  well 
to  the  ways  of  her  household,  and  she  ate  not  the  bread 
of  idleness.  Her  children  rose  up  and  called  her  blessed ; 
her  husband  also." 

When  inequality  was  threatened  and  States  were  to 
be  degraded  to  counties,  and  the  South  became  one  great 
battlefield,  and  every  citizen  was  aiding  in  the  terrible 
conflict,  the  mothers,  wives,  sisters,  daughters,  with 
extraordinary  unanimity  and  fervor,  rallied  to  the  sup- 
port of  their  imperilled  land.  While  the  older  women 
from  intelligent  conviction  were  ready  to  sustain  the 
South,  political  events  and  the  necessity  of  confronting 
privations,  trials,  and  sorrows  developed  girlhood  into 
the  maturity  and  self-reliance  of  womanhood.  Anxious 
women  with  willing  hands  and  loving  hearts  rushed 
eagerly  to  every  place  which  sickness  or  destitution  or 
the  ravages  of  war  invade,  enduring  sacrifices,  displaying 
unsurpassed  fortitude  and  heroism.  Churches  were  con- 
verted into  hospitals  or  places  for  making,  collecting,  and 
shipping  clothing  and  needed  supplies.  Innumerable  pri- 
vate homes  adjacent  to  battlefields  were  filled  with  the 
sick  and  wounded.  It  was  not  uncommon  to  see  grand- 
mother and  youthful  maiden  engaged  in  making  socks^ 
hats,  and  other  needed  articles.  Untrained,  these  women 
entered  the  fields  of  labor  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,  rose 
into  queenly  dignity,  and  enrolled  themselves  among  the 
immortals. 


«» 


28  WOMDN  01^  THE  CONI^EDI^RACY 

ADDRESS  OE  COIv.  W.  R.  AYEETT  BEfORD  PICKETT  CAMP 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  22,  page  60.] 

I  claim  for  Camp  Pickett  the  paternity  of  the  first  of 
the  public  expressions,  in  the  form  of  a  Confederate 
woman's  monument.  On  the  i6th  day  of  January,  1890, 
in  an  address  made  by  me,  upon  the  presentation  of  Gen- 
eral Pickett's  portrait  to  this  camp  by  Mrs.  Jennings,  as 
my  remarks,  published  in  the  Richmond  Dispatch  of  the 
17th  of  January,  1890,  will  show,  I  urged  that  steps  be 
taken  to  erect  a  monument  to  the  women  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy,  and  you  applauded  the  suggestion.  But 
this  idea,  and  the  execution  of  it,  is  something  in  which 
none  of  us  should  claim  exclusive  glory  and  ownership, 
The  monument  should  be  carried  not  alone  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  infantry,  artillery,  cavalry,  engineers 
and  sailors  of  the  Confederacy,  but  should  be  urged  for- 
ward by  the  hearts  and  hands  of  the  whole  South.  And 
wherever  a  Northern  man  has  a  Southern  wife  (and  a 
good  many  Northern  men  of  taste  have  them)  let  them 
help,  too,  for  God  never  gave  him  a  nobler  or  richer 
blessing.  The  place  for  such  a  monument,  it  seems  to 
me,  should  be  by  the  side  of  the  Confederate  soldier  on 
L/ibby  Hill.  It  is  not  well  for  a  man  to  be  alone,  nor 
woman  either.  To  place  her  elsewhere  would  make  a 
perpetual  stag  of  him,  and  a  perpetjial  wall-flower  of  her. 
Companions  in  glpi^  fen^.^  suff gj^g,  let  them  go  down 
the  corridors  of  time  side  by  siae]Kthe  representatives  of 
a  race  of  heroes.  ' 


GEN.  bradeEy  t.  Johnson's  speech  at  the  dedica- 
tion oE  south's  museum 

What  Our  Women  Stood 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  23,  pages  368-370.] 

Evil  dies,  good  lives ;  and  the  time  will  come  when  all 
the  world  will  realize  that  the  failure  of  the  Confederacy 
was  a  great  misfortune  to  humanity,  and  will  be  the 
source  of  unnumbered  woes   to   liberty.     Washington 


WOMIJN  O?  TH^  CONIfEDHRACY  29 

might  have  failed;  Kosciusko  and  Robert  E.  Lee  did 
fail;  but  I  believe  history  will  award  a  higher  place  to 
them,  unsuccessful,  than  to  Suwarrow  and  to  Grant,  vic- 
torious. This  great  and  noble  cause,  the  principles  of 
which  I  have  attempted  to  formulate  for  you,  was  de- 
fended with  a  genius  and  a  chivalry  of  men  and  women 
never  equalled  by  any  race.  My  heart  melts  now  at  the 
memory  of  those  days. 

Just  realize  it :  There  is  not  a  hearth  and  home  in  Vir- 
'  ginia  that  has  not  heard  the  sound  of  hostile  cannon ; 
there  is  not  a  family  which  has  not  buried  kin  slain  in 
battle.  Of  all  the  examples  of  that  heroic  time;  of  all 
figures  that  will  live  in  the  music  of  the  poet  or  the 
pictures  of  the  painter,  the  one  that  stands  in  the  fore- 
ground, the  one  that  will  be  glorified  with  the  halo  of  the 
heroine,  is  the  woman — mother,  sister,  lover — ^who  gave 
her  life  and  heart  to  the  cause.  And  the  woman  and  girl, 
remote  from  cities  and  towns,  back  in  the  woods,  away 
from  railways  or  telegraph. 

Thomas  Nelson  Page  has  given  us  a  picture  of  her  in 
his  story  of  "Darby."  I  thank  him  for  "Darby  Stanly." 
I  knew  the  boy  and  loved  him  well,  for  I  have  seen  him 
and  his  cousins  on  the  march,  in  camp,  and  on  the  battle- 
field, lying  in  ranks,  stark,  with  his  face  to  the  foe  and 
his  musket  grasped  in  his  cold  hands.  I  can  recall  what 
talk  there  was  at  a  "meetin'  "  about  the  "Black  Republi- 
cans" coming  down  here  to  interfere  with  us,  and  how 
we  "warn't  goin'  to  'low  it,"  and  how  the  boys  would 
square  their  shoulders  to  see  if  the  girls  were  looking  at 
'em,  and  how  the  girls  would  preen  their  new  muslins 
and  calicoes,  and  see  if  the  boys  were  "noticen',"  and  how 
by  Tuesday  news  came  that  Captain  Thornton  was  form- 
ing his  company  at  the  court-house,  and  how  the  mother 
packed  up  his  little  "duds"  in  her  boy's  school  satchel  and 
tied  it  on  his  back,  and  kissed  him  and  bade  him  good- 
bye, and  watched  him,  as  well  as  she  could  see,  as  he 
went  down  the  walk  to  the  front  gate,  and  as  he  turned 
into  the  "big  road,"  and  as  he  got  to  the  corner,  turned  • 
round  and  took  off  his  hat  and  swung  it  around  his  head, 
and  then  disappeared  out  of  her  life  forever.    For,  after 


30  WOM^N  Olf  THE  CONIfSDERACY 

Cold  Harbor,  his  body  could  never  be  found  nor  his 
grave  identified,  though  a  dozen  saw  him  die.  And  then, 
for  days  and  for  weeks  and  for  months,  alone,  the  mother 
lived  this  lonely  life,  waiting  for  news.  The  war  had 
taken  her  only  son,  and  she  was  a  widow ;  but  from  that 
day  to  this,  no  human  being  has  ever  heard  a  word  of 
repining  from  her  lips.  Those  who  suffer  most  complain 
least. 

Or,  I  recall  that  story  of  Bishop-General  Polk,  about 
the  woman  in  the  mountains  of  Tennessee,  with  six  sons. 
Five  of  them  were  in  the  army,  and  when  it  was  an- 
nounced to  her  that  her  eldest  born  had  been  killed  in 
battle,  the  mother  simply  said:  "The  Lord's  will  be 
done.  Eddie  (her  baby)  will  be  fourteen  next  spring, 
and  he  can  take  Billy's  place." 

The  hero  of  this  great  epoch  is  the  son  I  have  de- 
scribed, as  his  mother  and  sister  will  be  the  heroines. 
For  years,  day  and  night,  winter  and  summer,  without 
pay,  with  no  hope  of  promotion  nor  of  winning  a  name 
or  making  a  mark,  the  Confederate  boy-soldier  trod  the 
straight  and  thorny  path  of  duty.  Half-clothed,  whole- 
starved,  he  tramps,  night  after  night,  his  solitary  post  on 
picket.  No  one  can  see  him.  Five  minutes'  walk  down 
the  road  will  put  him  beyond  recall,  and  twenty  minutes 
further  and  he  will  be  in  the  Yankee  lines,  where  pay, 
food,  clothes,  quiet,  and  safety  all  await  him.  Think  of 
the  tens  of  thousands  of  boys  subjected  to  this  tempta- 
tion, and  how  few  yielded !  Think  of  how  many  dreamed 
of  such  relief  from  danger  and  hardship!  But,  while  I 
glorify  the  chivalry,  the  fortitude,  and  the  fidelity  of  the 
private  soldier,  I  do  not  intend  to  minimize  the  valor,  the 
endurance,  or  the  gallantry  of  those  who  led  him. 


GOVERNOR  C.  T.  o'EERRALL'S  TRIBUTE 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  23,  pages  361-362.] 

I  think  I  can  say  boldly  that  the  bloody  strife  of  1861 
to  1865  developed  in  the  men  of  the  South  traits  of 
character  as  ennobling  and  as  exalting  as^  ever  adorned 
men  since  the  day-dawn  of  creation.    I  think  I  can  pro- 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONIfKDBRACY  3! 

claim  confidently  that,  for  courage  and  daring  chivalry 
and  bravery,  the  world  has  never  seen  the  superiors  of 
the  Southern  soldiers.  I  think  I  can  assert  defiantly  that 
the  annals  of  time  present  no  leaves  more  brilliant  than 
those  upon  which  are  recorded  the  deeds  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  followers  of  the  Southern  Cross.  I  think  I 
can  proclaim  triumphantly  that,  from  the  South's  beloved 
President,  and  the  peerless  commander  of  her  armies  in 
the  field,  down  to  the  private  in  her  ranks,  there  was  a 
display  of  patriotism  perhaps  unequalled  (certainly  never 
surpassed)  since  this  passion  was  implanted  in  the  human 
breast. 

But  as  grand  as  the  South  was  in  her  sons,  she  was 
grander  in  her  daughters ;  as  sublime  as  she  was  in  her 
men,  she  was  sublimer  in  her  women. 

History  is  replete  with  bright  and  beautiful  examples 
of  woman's  devotion  to  home  and  birthland ;  of  her  forti- 
tude, trials,  and  sufferings  in  her  country's  cause,  and  the 
women  of  the  Confederacy  added  many  luminous  pages 
to  what  had  already  been  most  graphically  written. 

Yes,  these  Spartan  wives  and  mothers,  with  husbands 
or  sons,  or  both,  at  the  front,  directed  the  farming  opera- 
tions, supporting  their  families  and  supplying  the  armies ; 
they  sewed,  knitted,  weaved,  and  spun ;  then  in  the  hos- 
pitals they  were  ministering  angels,  turning  the  heated 
pillow,  smoothing  the  wrinkled  cot,  cooling  the  parched 
lips,  stroking  the  burning  brow,  staunching  the  flowing 
blood,  binding  up  the  gaping  wounds,  trimming  the  mid- 
night taper,  and  sitting  in  the  stillness,  only  broken  by 
the  groans  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  pointing  the  de- 
parting spirit  the  way  to  God ;  closing  the  sightless  eyes 
and  then  following  the  bier  to  Hollywood  or  some 
humble  spot,  and  then  dropping  the  purest  tear. 

They  saw  the  flames  licking  the  clouds,  as  their  homes, 
with  their  clinging  memories,  were  reduced  to  ashes; 
they  heard  of  the  carnage  of  battle,  followed  by  the 
mother's  deep  moan,  the  wife's  low  sob — for,  alas!  she 
could  not  weep — the  orphan's  wail,  and  the  sister's 
lament.  But  amid  flame,  carnage,  death,  and  lamenta- 
tions, though  their  land  was  reddening  with  blood,  and 


32  WOMDN  OE^  TH^  CONFE^D^RACY 

their  beloved  ones  were  falling  like  leaves  in  autumn,  they 
stood,  like  heroines,  firm,  steadfast,  and  constant. 

Oh!  women  of  the  Confederacy,  your  fame  is  death- 
less; you  need  not  monument  nor  sculptured  stone  to 
perpetuate  it.  Young  maidens,  gather  at  the  feet  of 
some  Confederate  matron  in  some  reminiscent  hour,  and 
listen  to  her  story  of  those  days,  now  more  than  thirty 
years  past,  and  hear  how  God  gave  her  courage,  forti- 
tude, and  strength  to  bear  her  privations,  and  bereave- 
ments, and  live. 


TRIBUTi:  Ot  JUDGi;  J.  H.  REAGAN,  OE  TEXAS,  POSTMASTER- 
GENERAL  OE  CONEEDERATE  STATES. 

I  never  felt  my  inability  to  do  justice  to  any  subject  so 
keenly  as  I  do  when  attempting  to  do  justice  to  the  char- 
acter, services,  and  devotion  of  the  women  of  the  Con- 
federacy. They  gave  to  the  armies  their  husbands,  fath- 
ers, sons,  and  brothers,  with  aching  hearts,  and  bade 
them  good-bye  with  sobs  and  tears.  But  they  believed 
their  sacrifice  was  due  to  their  country  and  her  cause. 
They  assumed  the  care  of  their  homes  and  of  the  children 
and  aged.  Many  of  them  who  had  been  reared  in  ease 
and  luxury  had  to  engage  in  all  the  drudgery  of  the  farm 
and  shop.  Many  of  them  worked  in  the  fields  to  raise 
means  of  feeding  their  families.  Spinning-wheels  and 
looms  were  multiplied  where  none  had  been  seen  before, 
to  enable  them  to  clothe  their  families  and  furnish  cloth- 
ing for  the  loved  ones  in  the  army,  to  whom,  with  mes- 
sages of  love  and  encouragement,  they  were,  whenever 
they  could,  sending  something  to  wear  or  eat.  And  like 
angels  of  mercy  they  visited  and  attended  the  hospitals, 
with  lint  and  bandages  for  the  wounded,  and  medicine 
for  the  sick,  and  such  nourishment  as  they  could  for  both, 
and  their  holy  prayers  at  all  times  went  to  the  throne  of 
God  for  the  safety  of  those  dear  to  them  and  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Confederate  cause.  There  was  a  courage  and 
a  moral  heroism  in  their  lives  superior  to  that  which 
animated  our  brave  men,  for  the  men  were  stimulated  by 
the  presence  of  their  associates,  the  hope  of  applause,  and 


WOMKN  Olf  THE  CONFEDERACY  33 

by  the  excitements  of  battle.  While  the  noble  women,  in 
the  seclusion  and  quietude  of  their  homes,  were  inspired 
by  a  moral  courage  which  could  only  come  from  God  and 
the  love  of  country. 


GENERAL   EREEMANTEE    (oE  THE   BRITISH   ARMY) 
[In  "Three  Months  in  Southern  Lines."] 

It  has  often  been  remarked  to  me  that  when  this  war 
is  over  the  independence  of  the  country  will  be  due  in  a 
great  measure  to  the  women :  for  they  declare  that  had 
the  women  been  desponding  they  never  could  have  gone 
through  with  it.  But,  on  the  contrary,  the  women  have 
invariably  set  an  example  to  the  men  of  patience,  devo- 
tion, and  determination.  Naturally  proud  and  with  an 
innate  contempt  for  the  Yankees,  Southern  women  have 
been  rendered  furious  and  desperate  by  the  proceedings 
of  Butler,  Milroy,  and  other  such  Federal  officers.  They 
are  all  prepared  to  undergo  any  hardship  and  misfortunes 
rather  than  submit  to  the  rule  of  such  people;  and  they 
use  every  argument  which  women  can  employ  to  infuse 
the  same  spirit  into  their  male  relatives. 


SHERMAN  S     TOUGH  SET 

After  Sherman  took  possession  of  Savannah  he  soon 
issued  orders,  driving  out  of  the  city  the  wives  of  Con- 
federate officers  and  soldiers.  While  these  women  were 
packing  their  trunks,  he  sent  soldiers  to  watch  them. 

The  ladies  sent  a  remonstrance  to  the  general,  and  here 
is  his  reply : 

"You  women  are  the  toughest  set  I  ever  knew.     The 
men  would  have  given  up  long  ago  but  for  you.     I  be- 
lieve you  Vk^ould  keep  this  war  up  for  thirty  years," 
3 


34  WOM^N  0^  THK  CON^EIDKRACY 

tribute:  of  GKNKRAI.  BUFI.Iv 

The  following  are  some  of  the  words  quoted  from 
General  Buell,  one  of  the  most  high-toned  and  gallant  of 
the  Federal  generals,  and  who  saved  the  Federal  army 
from  complete  defeat  at  the  battle  of  Shiloh.  This  ap- 
peared in  the  Century  Magazine,  and  afterward  in  the 
third  volume  of  "Battles  and  Leaders  in  the  Civil  War." 
After  speaking  of  the  confidence  of  the  Southern  soldier 
in  his  commander,  General  Buell  then  speaks  of  another 
influence  which  nerved  the  heart  of  the  Confederate 
soldier  to  valorous  deeds : 

"Nor  must  we  give  slight  importance  to  the  influence 
of  Southern  women  who,  in  agony  of  heart,  girded  the 
sword  upon  their  loved  ones  and  bade  them  go.  It  was 
expected  that  these  various  influences  would  give  a  con- 
fidence to  leadership  that  would  tend  to  bold  adventure 
and  leave  its  mark  upon  the  contest. 

"Yes;  the  Confederate  soldier  has  gone  down  in  all 
histories  as  the  most  peerless,  most  gallant  and  match- 
less hero  the  world  ever  produced." 


Tribute  of  judge  alton  b.  parker^  oe  new  york 

Nothing  in  all  recorded  history  of  mankind  has  been 
more  pathetic,  more  heroic,  more  deserving  of  admiration 
and  sympathy  than  the  attitude  of  the  Southern  people 
since  1865.  As  fate  would  have  it,  their  defeat  in  war 
was  the  smallest  of  their  woes,  because  it  would  neither 
threaten  nor  bring  dishonor.  But  the  new  post-bellum 
contest  with  military  power,  with  theft  and  robbery,  with 
poverty  and  enforced  domination  of  a  race  lately  in 
slavery,  forced  as  it  was  without  time  for  recovery,  and 
that,  too,  in  their  own  homes,  required  a  courage- a  little 
less  than  superhuman. 


wome;n  or*  th^  coNr'i:DE;RACY  35 

HEROIC  M^N  AND  WOME^N 
[President  Roosevelt,  in  his  speech  at  Richmond,  October  i8,   1905.] 

Great  though  the  meed  of  praise  is  which  is  due  the 
South  for  the  soldierly  valor  of  her  sons  displayed  during 
the  four  years  of  war,  I  think  that  even  greater  praise 
is  due  her  for  what  her  people  have  accomplished  during 
the  forty  years  of  peace  which  followed.  For  forty  years 
the  South  has  made  not  merely  a  courageous,  but  at 
times  a  desperate  struggle,  as  she  has  striven  for  moral 
and  material  well-being.  Her  success  has  been  extra- 
ordinary, and  all  citizens  of  our  common  country  should 
feel  joy  and  pride  in  it ;  for  any  great  deed  done,  or  any 
fine  qualities  shown,  by  one  group  of  Americans,  of 
necessity  reflects  credit  upon  all  Americans,  Only  a 
heroic  people  could  have  battled  successfully  against  the 
conditions  with  which  the  people  of  the  South  found 
themselves  face  to  face  at  the  end  of  the  civil  war.  There 
had  been  utter  destruction  and  disaster,  and  wholly  new 
business  and  social  problems  had  to  be  faced  with  the 
scantiest  means.  The  economic  and  political  fabric  had 
to  be  readjusted  in  the  midst  of  dire  want,  of  grinding 
poverty.  The  future  of  the  broken,  war-swept  South 
seemed  beyond  hope,  and  if  her  sons  and  daughters  had 
been  of  weaker  fiber  there  would  have  been  in  very  truth 
no  hope.  But  the  men  and  the  sons  of  the  men  who  had 
faced  with  unfaltering  front  every  alternation  of  good 
and  evil  fortune  from  Manassas  to  Appomattox,  and  the 
women,  their  wives  and  mothers,  whose  courage  and  en- 
durance had  reached  an  even  higher  heroic  level — these 
men  and  these  women  set  themselves  undauntedly  to  the 
great  task  before  them.  For  twenty  years  the  struggle 
was  hard  and  at  times  doubtful.  Then  the  splendid 
qualities  of  your  manhood  and  womanhood  told,  as  they 
were  bound  to  tell,  and  the  wealth  of  your  extraordinary 
natural  resources  began  to  be  shown.  Now  the  teeming 
riches  of  mine  and  field  and  factory  attest  the  prosperity 
of  those  who  are  all  the  stronger  because  of  the  trials  and 
struggles  through  which  this  prosperity  has  come.  You 
stand  loyally  to  your  traditions  and  memories ;  you  also 
stand  loyal  for  our  great  common  country  of  to-day  and 


36  woM^N  01^  The:  coni^ejddracy 

for  our  common  flag,  which  symbolizes  all  that  is  bright- 
est and  most  hopeful  for  the  future  of  mankind;  you 
face  the  new  age  in  the  spirit  of  the  age.  Alike  in  your 
material  and  in  your  spiritual  and  intellectual  develop- 
ment you  stand  abreast  of  the  foremost  in  the  world's 
progress. 


the:  wome^n  0^  The:  south 

[Joel   Chandler   Harris,   in    Southern   Historical    Papers.] 

Southern  women  have  been  heretofore  referred  to  only 
as  the  standards  of  fiction.  There  are  three  pieces  of 
fiction  that  have  had  a  long  and  popular  run  in  what  may 
be  described  in  a  large  way  as  the  North  American  mind. 
One  is  that  the  stage  representations  of  negro  characters 
are  true  to  life;  another  is  that  the  poor  white  trash  of 
the  South  are  utterly  worthless  and  thriftless ;  and  the 
other  is  that  the  white  woman  of  the  South  lived  in  a 
state  of  idleness  during  the  days  of  slavery,  swinging 
and  languishing  in  hammocks  while  bevies  of  pickanin- 
nies cooled  the  tropical  air  with  long-handled  fans  made 
of  peacock  tails. 

Preposterous  as  they  are,  age  has  made  these  fictions 
respectable,  especially  in  the  North.  They  strut  about  in 
good  company,  and  sometimes  a  sober  historian  goes  so 
far  as  to  employ  them  for  the  purpose  of  bolstering  up  his 
sectional  theories,  or,  what  is  still  worse,  his  prejudices. 

I  do  not  know  that  these  fictions  are  important,  or  that 
they  are  even  interesting.  If  there  was  an  explosion 
every  time  truth  was  outrun  by  his  notorious  competitor, 
the  man  who  sleeps  late  of  a  morning  would  wake  up 
with  a  snort  and  imagine  that  the  universe  was  the  victim 
of  a  fierce  and  prolonged  bombardment. 

Wives  of  Planters 

The  busiest  women  the  world  has  ever  seen  were  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  the  Southern  planters  during  the 
days  of  slavery.  They  were  busy  from  morning  until 
night,  and  sometimes  far  into  the  night.  They  were 
practically  at  the  head  of  the  commissary  and  sanitary 


WOMEJN  Olf  THE)  CONf'E^DE^RACY  37 

departments  of  the  plantation.  It  was  a  part  of  their 
duty  to  see  that  the  negroes  were  properly  fed,  clothed, 
and  shod.  They  did  not,  it  is  true,  go  into  the  market 
and  purchase  the  supplies ;  that  was  a  matter  that  could 
be  attended  to  by  even  a  dull-witted  man;  but  after  the 
supplies  were  bought  it  was  the  woman's  intelligent  man- 
agement that  caused  them  to  be  properly  distributed. 

I  have  never  yet  heard  of  a  Southern  woman  who  sur- 
rendered the  keys  of  her  smoke-house  and  store-room  to 
an  overseer.  The  distribution  of  the  supplies,  however, 
was  a  comparatively  small  item.  Take,  for  example,  the 
clothing  provided  for,  say,  one  hundred  negroes,  male 
and  female,  large  and  small.  The  cloth  was  bought  in 
bolts,  though  occasionally  a  considerable  portion  was 
woven  on  the  plantation  on  the  old-fashioned  hand- 
looms.  Whether  bought  or  woven,  the  cloth  had  to  be 
cut  out  and  made  into  garments.  Who  was  to  superin- 
tend and  see  to  all  this  if  not  a  woman?  Who  was  at  tlTe 
head  of  the  domestic  establishment?  There  were  seams- 
tresses to  make  up  the  clothes,  but  all  the  details  and 
preparations  had  to  be  looked  after  by  the  mistress,  and 
it  oftentimes  fell  to  her  lot  to  go  down  on  her  knees  on 
the  floor  and  cut  out  the  garments  for  hours  at  a  time. 

Sanitary  Experts 

And  then  there  was  the  health  of  the  negroes — a  very 
important  item  where  a  twenty-year-old  field  hand  was 
worth  $1,500  in  gold.  Who  was  to  look  after  the  sick 
when,  as  frequently  happened,  the  physician  was  miles 
away?  Who,  indeed,  if  not  the  mistress?  It  was 
natural,  therefore — and  not  only  natural,  but  absolutely 
necessary — that  a  part  of  the  store-room  should  be  an 
apothecary's  shop  on  a  small  scale,  and  that  the  Southern 
woman  should  know  what  to  prescribe  in  all  the  simpler 
forms  of  disease.  It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  when 
the  negroes  came  in  from  their  work  the  plantation  be- 
came a  domestic  establishment,  and  its  demands  were 
such  that  it  was  necessary  for  a  woman  to  be  at  the 
head  of  it.  On  the  energy,  the  industry  and  the  apt  man- 
agement of  the  mistress  the  success  of  the  plantation 


38  woM^N  oif  th^  cone'Kde:racy 

depended  to  a  great  extent.  It  was  not  often  these  quali- 
ties were  lacking,  either,  for  they  were  absolutely  essen- 
tial to  the  success,  the  comfort,  and  the  moral  discipline 
of  the  establishment. 

Queen  of  the  Kitchen 

Then  there  was  the  kitchen.  No  Southern  woman 
could  afford  to  turn  that  important  department  over  to  a 
negro  cook.  Such  a  thing  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  The 
mistress  of  the  plantation  was  also  the  mistress  of  the 
kitchen.  In  order  to  teach  their  negroes  the  art  of  cook- 
ing, the  Southern  women  had  to  know  how  to  cook 
themselves,  and  they  were  compelled  to  gain  their  knowl- 
edge by  practical  experience,  for  the  kitchen  is  one  of  the 
places  where  theories  cannot  be  entertained.  There  are 
negro  women  still  living  who  got  their  training  in  the 
plantation  kitchen,  under  the  eyes  of  their  mistresses, 
and  their  cooking  is  a  spur  to  the  appetite  and  a  remedy 
for  indigestion.  It  is  no  wonder  that  a  Georgia  woman, 
when  she  heard  the  negroes  were  really  free,  gave  a  sigh 
of  relief  and  exclaimed:  "Thank  heaven!  I  shall  have 
to  work  for  them  no  more !" 

These  Southern  women  were  the  outgrowth  of  the 
plantation  system,  the  result  of  six  or  seven  generations 
of  development.  On  that  system  they  placed  the  impress 
of  their  humanity  and  refinement ;  and  the  outcome  of  it 
is  to  be  seen  in  the  condition  of  the  negro  race  to-day. 
In  the  sphere  of  their  homes  and  in  their  social  relations 
they  exercised  a  power  and  influence  that  has  no  parallel 
in  history.  As  they  were  themselves,  so  they  trained 
their  daughters  to  be. 

In  This  Generation 

As  the  vine  was,  so  must  the  fruit  be.  I  have  tried  to 
describe  the  mistress  of  the  plantation  for  the  reason  that 
her  characteristics  and  tendencies  have  been  transmitted 
to  the  Southern  women  of  this  generation  and  to  the 
young  girls  who  are  growing  into  womanhood.  It  is 
inevitable,  however,  that  certain  of  these  characteristics 
should  be  modified  or  amplified  according  as  the  circum- 
stances of  an  environment  altogether  new  may  demand. 


woM^N  OF  the;  coni^eddracy  39 

I  know  of  no  more  beautiful  or  romantic  civilization 
than  that  which  blossomed  under  the  plantation  system, 
and  yet,  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  it  would  have 
inevitably  run  to  caste  distinctions.  It  had  social  ideals 
that  were  impracticable,  and  it  had  literary  ideals  that 
were  foolish;  nevertheless,  after  everything  had  been 
said,  caste  distinctions  under  the  plantation  system  would 
have  been  less  distasteful  than  those  which  are  now  in 
process  of  organization  in  some  parts  of  this  country. 

Whatever  the  development  of  Southern  civilization 
might  have  been  under  the  old  system  it  has  come  under 
the  domination  of  the  new.  That  the  new  has  been 
strengthened  and  sweetened  thereby  I  think  will  not  be 
denied  by  impartial  observers  who  have  no  pet  theories 
to  nurse.  Women  of  to-day  still  possess  the  character- 
istics that  made  their  mothers  and  their  grandmothers 
beautiful  and  gracious;  still  possess  the  refinement  that 
built  up  a  rare  civilization  amid  unpromising  surround- 
ings ;  still  possess  the  energy  and  patience  and  gentleness 
that  wrought  order  and  discipline  on  the  plantations. 

An  Inheritance  of  Graciousness 
Take,  for  example,  the  home  life  of  the  plantation.  It 
was  larger,  ampler,  and  more  perfect  than  that  which 
exists  in  the  republic  to-day,  not  because  it  was  more 
leisurely  and  freer  from  care,  but  because  the  aims  and 
purposes  of  the  various  members  of  the  family  were  more 
concentrated.  The  hospitality  that  was  a  feature  of  it 
was  more  unrestrained  and  simpler,  because  it  bore  no 
relation  whatever  to  the  demands  and  suggestions  of 
what  is  now  known  in  Sunday  newspapers  as  "Society." 
The  home  life  of  the  old  plantation  has  had  a  marked 
influence  on  the  Southern  women  of  to-day  in  their 
struggles  with  adverse  circumstances.  They  lack,  for 
one  thing,  the  assurance  of  those  who  have  inherited  the 
knack  of  making  their  way  among  strangers.  The  poetic 
young  Bostonian  who  has  been  writing  recently  of  "The 
Mannerless  Sex"  and  "The  Ruthless  Sex"  could  never 
have  made  the  Southern  woman  a  text  for  his  articles, 
and  I  trust  that  for  generations  yet  to  come  they  will  re- 


40  woM^N  oif  The:  coni^ddeiracy 

tain  the  gentleness  and  the  graciousness  that  belong  to 
them  by  right  of  inheritance. 

A  Beneficent  Influence. 

Comparatively  speaking,  it  has  been  but  a  few  years 
since  the  Southern  woman  has  been  compelled  by  circum- 
stances to  seek  a  wider  and  more  profitable  field  for  her 
talent,  her  energy,  and  her  industry  than  the  home  and 
fireside  afford,  and  the  experience  of  these  few  years  has 
demonstrated  the  fact  that  she  is  amply  able  to  take  care 
of  herself.  In  shaping  and  developing  what  is  called  the 
new  literary  movement  in  the  South,  she  has  shown  her- 
self to  be  a  far  more  versatile  worker  than  the  men,  more 
artistic  and  more  conscientious.  She  has  made  herself 
in  art,  in  science,  and  in  schools;  she  has  taken  a  place 
in  the  ranks  of  the  journalists;  she  has  a  place  on  the 
stage  and  the  platform;  she  is  to  be  found  in  many  of 
the  trades  that  are  next  door  to  the  arts,  in  the  profes- 
sions and  in  business;  she  is  stenographing,  typewriting, 
clerking,  dairying,  gardening.  She  is  to  be  found,  in 
short,  wherever  there  is  room  for  her,  and  her  field  is 
always  widening. 

I  think  she  will  exercise  a  mellowing  and  restraining 
influence  on  the  ripping  and  snorting  age  just  ahead  of 
us — the  rattling  and  groaning  age  of  electricity.  What 
part  she  may  play  in  the  woman's  rights  movement  of  the 
future  it  is  difficult  to  say.  Just  now  she  has  no  aptitude 
in  that  direction.  She  has  been  taught  to  believe  that  the 
influences  that  are  the  result  of  a  happy  home-life  are 
more  powerful  and  more  important  elements  of  politics 
than  the  casting  of  a  ballot ;  and  in  this  belief  she  seems 
to  be  with  an  overwhelming  majority  of  American 
women — the  mothers  and  daughters  who  are  the  hope 
and  pride  of  the  Republic. 

Yet  she  is  an  earnest  and  untiring  temperance  worker. 
Conservative  in  all  other  directions,  she  is  inclined  to  be 
somewhat  radical  in  her  crusade  against  rum.  She  is 
inclined  to  fret  and  grieve  a  little  over  the  fact  that  public 
opinion  failed  to  keep  pace  with  her  desires.  The  wheels 
of  legislation  do  not  move  fast  enough  for  her,  and  she  is 


WOM^N  Ot  THEJ  CONF^DKRACY  4I 

inclined  to  wonder  at  it.  In  the  innocence  of  her  heart 
she  has  never  suspected  that  there  is  a  demijohn  in  the 
legislative  committee-room. 

There  is  no  question  and  no  movement  of  real  impor- 
tance in  which  she  is  not  interested.  Her  devotion  and 
self-sacrifice  in  the  past  have  consecrated  her  to  the 
future,  and  her  sufferings  and  privations  have  taught  her 
the  blessings  of  charity  in  its  largest  and  best  interpreta- 
tion. 


EUI^OGY  ON  CONJ^EDERATE  WOMEN,  BY  J.   L,.   UNDERWOOD, 
DELIVERED  IN  1896 

[The  author  offers  as  his  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the 
Confederate  Women  the  following  lecture  just  as  it 
came  from  his  brain  and  heart  in  1896.  It  was  delivered 
mainly  for  the  benefit  of  the  Confederate  Monument  in 
Cuthbert,  Ga.  A  very  serious  lip  cancer  soon  interrupted 
all  lecture  work  and  finally  landed  him  in  Kellam's  Hos- 
pital in  Richmond,  Va.] 

Ever  since  1861  the  women  of  the  South  have  been 
laying  flowers  on  the  graves  of  Confederate  soldiers  and 
building  monuments  to  their  memory.  The  humblest  of 
surviving  veterans  begs  the  privilege  of  offering  a  wreath 
of  evergreen  and  immortelles  to  the  memory  of  the  Con- 
federate women.  To  the  genuine  woman,  no  bouquet  is 
acceptable,  not  even  the  kiss  of  affection  is  welcome,  un- 
less hallowed  by  respect.  Horatio  Seymour,  the  great 
governor  of  New  York,  said  that  the  South,  prior  to 
1 86 1,  produced  "the  best  men  and  the  best  women  the 
world  ever  saw."  In  the  early  part  of  the  spring  of  1861, 
your  speaker  heard  M.  Laboulaye,  one  of  the  foremost 
men  of  France  in  literature  and  public  life,  in  a  public 
lecture  at  the  Sorbourne  in  Paris,  utter  the  following 
memorable  words :  "I  am  told  that  in  America  a  lady 
can  travel  alone  from  Baltimore  to  New  Orleans  and  will 
all  the  way  be  protected  and  assisted.  A  country  where 
woman  is  respected  as  she  is  in  the  Southern  States  of 
the  American  Republic, — a  country  where  women  so 
richly  deserve  that  respect, — others  may  say  what  they 


42  womkn  of*  the;  conpe;di;racy 

please  about  slavery  in  that  sunny  land,  but  that's  the 
country  for  me,"  This  profound  admiration,  expressed 
by  the  good  and  great  of  the  world,  while  it  fills  the  heart, 
must  surely  temper  the  words  of  a  Southern  writer. 

That  man  is  not  qualified  to  admire  one  woman  who 
sees  no  good  in  other  women.  Blind  partiality  is  stupid 
idolatry.  The  just  historian  of  Southern  women  will 
say  nothing  in  disparagement  of  the  warm-hearted  fraus 
of  Germany,  the  tasteful,  tidy,  sparkling  women  of 
France,  our  rosy  cousins  of  old  England,  and  especially 
those  bustling,  bright  little  creatures  up  North,  who  make 
things  so  lively  everywhere.  When  Titian  and  Cor- 
reggio  put  woman  on  canvas  she  is  their  Italian  woman ; 
Murillo  paints  her  as  the  lustrous,  dark-eyed  beauty  of 
his  own  Spain.  Meissonier's  women  are  French  women, 
and  when  Rubens  paints  an  angel  or  unfallen  Eve,  she  is 
the  fat  chubby  girl  of  Holland.  But  Raphael,  in  his 
celebrated  Madonna,  the  greatest  of  all  paintings,  forgets 
all  nationality,  and  his  picture  is  just  that  of  a  woman. 
Oh  for  something  of  this  cosmopolitan  spirit  in  our  sacred 
task.  Nor  must  history  degenerate  into  panegyric. 
Weeds  are  near  the  flower-garden,  and  there  are  thorns 
among  the  roses.  Even  among  the  brave  Confederate 
soldiers  there  were  some  shirkers  and  cowards.  We  had 
our  "hospital  rats"  and  "butter-milk-rangers."  In  the 
battle  there  were  some  who  suddenly  got  very  thirsty 
and  ran  away  to  get  water.  As  one  of  these  was  rush- 
ing from  a  hot  fire  to  the  rear  one  day,  his  colonel  shouted 
to  him,  "What  are  you  running  for?  I  wouldn't  be  a 
baby."  "I  wish  I  was  a  baby,  and  a  gal  baby  at  that" — 
was  the  reply.  Another  one  in  Gordon's  command,  in 
another  battle,  was  making  tracks  to  the  rear  as  fast  as 
he  could.  General  J.  B.  Gordon  shouted,  "Stop  there, 
Jim;  what  makes  you  run?"  "Because  I  can't  fly,"  was 
his  reply,  as  he  leaped  the  fence.  So  our  Confederate 
women  were  not  all  paragons  nor  angels;  not  if  you  let 
their  poor  husbands  tell  it.  An  old  soldier  in  Atlanta  has 
sued  for  a  divorce  from  his  wife  on  the  plea  that  during  a 
long  life  she  has  allowed  him  only  four  years  of  peace, 
and  that  was  when  he  was  away  in  the  war. 


WOMEJN  Olf  TH^  CONlfi;DE;RACY  43 

About  the  time  of  the  surrender  in  1865,  a  Federal  bri- 
gade, on  its  march  to  take  possession  of  a  Georgia  city, 
halted  near  a  farm.  As  usual  the  soldiers  went  in  to  get 
supplies  of  milk,  chickens,  etc.,  offering  to  pay  for  every- 
thing. The  old  gentleman  of  the  farm  when  he  heard  of 
their  approach  had  taken  to  the  woods.  His  wife  stood 
her  ground,  and,  seizing  her  first  opportunity  to  let  the 
Yankees  "know  what  she  thought  of  them,"  let  out  upon 
their  devoted  heads  a  torrent  of  woman's  fury.  Her 
tongue  fought  the  war  over  again.  They  became  en- 
raged and  literally  "cleaned  up"  the  farm,  taking  mules, 
wagons,  corn,  chickens, — everything  in  sight.  When 
they  had  gone  the  old  farmer  came  in  and  when  he  saw 
"wide  o'er  the  plain  the  wreck  of  ruin  laid"  he  became 
desperate.  Finally,  on  the  advice  of  his  neighbors,  he 
went  to  the  headquarters  of  the  general  in  the  city  and 
laid  before  him  his  pitiful  complaint.  That  officer  told 
him  he  could  not  help  him.  "If  you  people  give  my  sol- 
diers a  civil  treatment,  I  shall  see  that  they  respect  your 
property  and  pay  for  everything  they  get ;  but  when  they 
are  abused  and  insulted  as  they  were  at  your  house,  I 
can't  restrain  them,  nor  shall  I  try."  "But,  see  here, 
General,  it  is  my  mules  and  other  property  that  they  have 
taken,  and  I  have  not  abused  your  soldiers;  it  was  my 
wife."  "But,  sir,  you  ought  to  make  your  wife  hold  her 
tongue."  "Well,  now.  General,  I  have  been  trying  that 
forty  years,  and  if  you  and  your  whole  army  can't  make 
her  hold  her  tongue,  how  in  the  world  can  you  expect  me 
to  do  it?"  The  general  saw  the  situation  and  kindly 
ordered  everything  which  had  been  taken  to  be  given 
back  to  the  old  farmer. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  South  has  been  busy  making 
history  and  others  busy  writing  it.  Our  own  people 
must  write  it,  and  our  children  must  study  it.  For  more 
than  twenty-five  years  the  life  of  the  South  was  the 
drama  of  the  nineteenth  century;  and  no  drama  is  com- 
plete without  woman's  part  in  it.  The  war  between  the 
Southern  and  Northern  States  was  one  of  the  bloodiest  in 
history.  The  Southern  States  claimed  the  right  of  se- 
cession from  the  Union — a  right  which  during  the  first 


44  woMi^N  01^  The;  con]?e;di;racy 

seventy  years  of  the  Nation's  life  was  never  questioned. 
The  Northern  States  claimed  the  right  to  coerce  our 
States  back  into  what  they  called  the  Union — a  right 
never  before  thought  of. 

The  die  of  war  was  cast,  the  Rubicon  of  coercion  was 
crossed,  the  gauntlet  of  blood  was  thrown  down,  when 
the  Northern  States  sent  ships  and  soldiers  to  hold  Fort 
Sumter  on  South  Carolina's  soil.  Again  and  again 
had  the  Southern  States  asked  the  Northern  States  for 
the  fish  of  peace;  they  were  given  the  serpent  of  Sew- 
ard's "irrepressible  conflict."  They  asked  for  the  bread 
of  simple  right;  they  were  given  the  stone  of  invasion. 
The  reinforcement  of  Fort  Sumter  was  a  declaration  of 
war  on  the  South. 

Then,  and  not  till  then,  did  Beauregard's  cannon  thun- 
der forth  the  protest  for  the  rights  of  States,  and  the 
tocsin  rang  out  from  the  Potomac  to  the  Rio  Grande. 
The  ultimatum  was  cowardly  submission  to  sectional  dic- 
tation. There  is  something  better  than  peace;  that  is 
liberty.  There  is  something  dearer  than  a  people's  life; 
that  is  a  people's  manhood.  The  South  wanted  no  war ; 
had  prepared  for  no  war;  and  had  but  few  arms,  no 
navy,  few  factories  and  railroads.  With  a  small  popu- 
lation, she  was  cut  off  by  an  effective  blockade  from  the 
rest  of  the  world.  The  Northern  States  had  the  national 
army,  navy,  treasury  and  flag,  and  all  Europe  from  which 
to  draw  soldiers  and  supplies. 

The  South,  after  mustering  every  able-bodied  man, 
could  enroll,  in  all,  but  600,000  soldiers,  while  she  fought 
2,600,000.  Never  was  there  a  war  continued  for  four 
years  at  such  fearful  odds.  And  yet  Richmond,  the  Con- 
federate capital,  almost  in  sight  of  Washington,  was  only 
captured  when  Sherman  and  Sheridan,  the  modern  Atil- 
las,  had  flanked  it  with  walls  of  fire,  and  pillaged  the 
country  in  its  rear.  Never  has  there  been  a  war  in  which 
the  weaker  so  long  and  so  effectually  held  the  stronger  at 
bay  or  so  often  defeated  them  on  the  field  of  battle ;  never 
a  war  in  which  the  valor  of  the  finally  vanquished  was  so 
respected  by  foes  and  so  universally  applauded  by  the 
world.     The  mention  of  no  battle,   from  Manassas  to 


WOM^N  or*  THE)  coni^ederacy  45 

Appomattox,  from  Shiloh  to  Franklin,  brings  a  blush  to 
the  Confederate  soldier.  The  world  congratulates  the 
B'ederal  soldier  on  his  pension  and  the  Confederate  sol- 
dier on  his  valor.  The  surrender  of  Lee's  7,800  to 
Grant's  130,000  and  the  roll  of  357,679  Federal  soldiers 
living  to-day  in  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  measure 
the  odds  against  us.  The  reduction  of  the  Federal  forces 
to  1,500,000  during  the  war  and  the  present  pension  roll 
of  800,000  tell  our  work.  Our  poor  South  was  never 
vanquished.  Her  sad  fate  was  simply  to  be  worn  out, 
starved  out,  burned  out,  to  die  out. 

Generously,  but  truthfully,  did  Professor  Worseley,  of 
England,  in  his  poem  on  Robert  E.  Lee,  say  of  the  ill- 
fated  Confederacy, 

"Thy  Troy  is  fallen,  thy  dear  land 

Is  marred  beneath  the  spoiler's  heel; 
I  cannot  trust  my  trembling  hand 
To  write  the  things  I  feel. 

"Ah,  realm  of  tombs!  but  let  her  bear 
This  blazon  to  the  end  of  times; 
No   nation   rose   so  white  and   fair  * 

Or  fell  so  pure  of  crimes." 

After  the  surrender  a  poor  Southern  soldier  was  wend- 
ing his  way  down  the  lane  over  the  "red  old  hills  of 
Georgia."  His  old  gray  jacket  that  his  wife  had  woven 
and  his  mother  made,  was  all  tattered  and  torn;  the  old 
greasy  haversack  and  cedar  canteen  hung  by  his  side. 
From  under  his  bullet-pierced  hat  there  beamed  eyes  that 
had  seen  many  a  battlefield.  Said  one  of  his  neighbors : 
"Hello,  John;  the  Yankees  whipped  you,  did  they?" 
"No,  we  just  wore  ourselves  out  whipping  them." 
"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  now,  John?"  "Why, 
I'm  going  home,  kiss  Mary,  and  make  a  crop  and  get 
ready  to  whip  'em  again." 

That  "Mary"  is  our  theme  to-day.  Others  have  told 
of  Confederate  soldiers  on  the  battlefield.  God  help  me 
to  tell  of  the  soldier's  "other-self"  behind  the  battlefield. 
The  brave  Southern  army  was  defending  home.  The  arm 
of  the  hero  is  nerved  by  his  heart,  and  the  heart  of  John 
was  Mary,  and  Mary  was  the  soul  of  the  South.  In 
peace  woman  was  the  queen  of  that  Arcadia  which  God's 
blessings  made  our  sunny  land,  and  never  has  there  been 


46  WOM^N  0^  TH^  CONFDDERACY 

a  war  in  which  her  enthusiasm  was  so  intense  and  her 
heroic  cooperation  so  conspicuous.  Her  effectual  and 
practical  work  in  the  departments  of  the  commissary,  the 
quartermaster  and  the  surgeon,  and  her  magic  influence 
at  home  and  on  the  spirit  of  the  army,  were  something 
wonderful.  The  Federal  General  Atkins,  of  Sherman's 
army,  said  to  a  Carolina  lady:  "You  women  keep  up 
this  war.  We  are  fighting  you.  What  right  have  you 
to  expect  anything  from  us  ?" 

And  yet  in  all  she  was  woman, — nothing  but  woman. 
"And  the  Lord  said  it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone ;  I 
will  make  a  help-meet  for  him."  In  Paradise  she  was 
the  rib  of  man's  side;  in  Paradise  lost  she  bears  woman's 
heavy  share  of  his  labors  and  his  fate.  The  history  of 
the  South  of  1 86 1  will  go  down  to  the  centuries  with  its 
immortal  lesson  that  woman's  power  is  greatest,  her 
work  most  beneficent  and  her  career  most  splendid  when 
she  moves  in  the  orbit  assigned  her  by  Heaven  as  the 
help-meet  of  man.  It  is  the  glory  of  Southern  life  and 
society  that  with  us  woman  is  no  "flaring  Jezebel"  but 
our  own  modest  Vashti. 

Thank  God  the  Confederate  woman  Vv^as  no  Lady 
Macbeth,  plotting  treason  for  the  advancement  of  her 
husband ;  but  the  loyal  daughter  Cordelia,  clinging  to  her 
old  father  Lear  in  his  wrongs ;  no  fanatical  Catherine  de 
Medici,  thirsting  for  Huguenot  blood,  but  the  sweet  Flor- 
ence Nightingale,  hovering  over  the  battlefield  with, 

"The  balm  that  drops  on  wounds  of  woe, 
From  woman's  pitying  eye," 

and  making  the  dying  bed  of  the  patriot  feel  "soft  as 
downy  pillows  are."  She  was  no  Herodias,  calling  for 
the  head  of  an  enemy,  but  the  humble  Mary,  breaking 
the  alabaster  box  to  anoint  the  martyr  of  her  cause ; 
weeping  at  His  cross  and  watching  at  His  grave.  She 
was  no  fierce  Clytimnestra,  but  the  loving  Antigone  lead- 
ing the  blind  old  Oedipus,  or  digging  the  grave  of  her 
brother  Polynices;  no  Amazon  Camilla,  "Agmen  agens 
equitum  et  Uorentes  aere  catervas,"  but  the  Roman  Cor- 
nelia, proud  of  her  jewel  Gracchi  sons,  and  laying  them 
upon  the  altar  of  her  country ;  no  Helen,  heartless  in  her 


z' 


woMEiN  0^  th^  cone*i:di;racy  47 

beauty,  but  the  gentle  Creusa,  following  her  husband  to 
be  crushed  in  the  ruins  of  her  ill-fated  Troy;  no  cruel 
Juno,  seeking  revenge  for  wounded  pride,  but  a  pure 
Vesta,  keeping  alive  the  fires  of  American  patriotism; 
no  Charlotte  Corday,  plunging  a  dagger  into  the  heart  of 
the  tyrant  Marat,  but  the  calm  Madame  Roland, 
under  the  guillotine  of  the  Jacobins,  raised  to  sever  her 
proud  but  all  womanly  head,  and  crying  to  her  country- 
men, "Oh,  Liberty,  what  crimes  are  committed  in  thy 
name !"  Who  begrudges  a  moment  for  the  record  of  her 
patriotic  services  and  unremitting  toil?  Who  does  not 
see  in  her  a  glorious  lesson  ? 

Thank  God!  the  clash  of  arms  has  long  ago  ceased. 
The  temple  of  Janus  is  closed.  But  the  war  of  pens,  the 
contest  of  history,  is  upon  us.  For  years  Southern 
women  had  been  written  down  as  soulless  ciphers  or 
weakling  wives,  dragged  by  reckless  husbands  into  an 
unholy  cause.  Text  books  of  so-called  history,  teeming 
with  such  falsehoods,  have  been  thrust  even  into  South- 
ern schools.  It  is  high  time  to  protest.  Before  God  we 
tell  them  our  mothers  were  not  dupes,  but  women ;  they 
and  our  men  were  not  rebels,  but  patriots,  obedient  to 
every  law,  loyal  to  every  compact.  State  and  National,  of 
their  country;  true,  gloriously  true,  to  every  lesson 
taught  by  Washington  and  Jefferson,  and  moved  by 
every  impulse  that  has  made  this  country  great. 

But  there  must  be  no  gall  in  the  inkstand  of  history. 
No  man  can  justly  record  the  truth  of  the  Confederate 
war  who  has  not  risen  above  the  passions  and  prejudices 
incident  to  such  terrible  convulsions.  No  man  with 
malice  to  the  North  can  write  justly  of  the  South.  No 
man  can  appreciate  our  great  Jefferson  Davis,  who  can 
see  nothing  good  in  President  Lincoln.  No  man  can 
describe  the  glory  of  Lee  and  Jackson,  who  shuts  his  eyes 
to  the  soldiership  of  McClellan,  the  patriotism  of  Han- 
cock, the  generosity  of  Grant,  and  the  knighthood  of 
McPherson  and  Custer. 

But  don't  let  us  go  too  far  in  this  direction.  We  might 
fall  into  the  other  extreme  of  hypocritical  "gush."  Let 
us  be  careful ;  yea,  honest.     About  the  best  we  could  do 


48  WOMEJN  Olf  THEJ  CONFEDERACY 

in  war  times  is  well  shown  in  the  preaching  of  a  good  old 
Alabama  country  Baptist  preacher  in  the  darker  days  of 
the  war.  He  was  a  thorough  Southerner  and  "brim  full 
of  secesh,"  as  we  used  to  say,  and  at  the  same  time  a  de- 
vout Christian.  He  was  of  the  old-fashioned  type  and 
talked  a  little  through  his  nose.  His  text  was  the  great 
day  when  the  good  people  will  be  gathered  to  Heaven 
from  the  four  corners  of  the  world.  Warming  up  to  his 
theme  he  said :  "And  oh,  my  brethren, — ah ;  in  the  day 
of  redemption  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  will  come  flock- 
ing from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth, — ah!  They  will 
come  from  the  East  on  the  wings  of  the  morning, — ah! 
I  hear  them  shouting  Hallelujah,  as  they  strike  their 
harps  of  gold — ah!  And  they'll  come  from  the  West 
shouting  Hosanna  in  the  highest, — ah!  and  you'll  see 
them  coming  in  crowds  from  the  South, — ah;  with 
palms  of  victory  in  their  hands, — ah!  And  they'll  come 
from  the, — well,  I  reckon  may  be  a  few  of  them  will 
come  from  the  North."  Oh  that's  about  the  way  men, 
women  and  children  down  South  felt  for  twenty  years. 
But,  we've  moved  up  on  that.  Christians  grow  in  grace, 
you  know.  The  war  is  over.  There  are  no  enemies  now. 
We  now  believe  a  great  many  will  come  from  the  North. 
Our  old  preacher  would  not  now  have  a  misgiving  about 
all  four  of  the  corners. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg,  a  large 
number  of  sick  paroled  Confederate  soldiers  were  sent 
home  on  a  Federal  steamer  by  way  of  New  Orleans  and 
Mobile.  The  speaker  was  among  them.  He  had  been 
promoted  to  the  chaplaincy  of  the  Thirtieth  Alabama 
Regiment  and  soon  found  himself  strong  enough  at  least 
to  bury  the  dead  as  our  poor  fellows  dropped  away  every 
day.  The  Federal  guard  on  the  boat  was  under  com- 
mand of  Lieutenant  Winslow,  of  Massachusetts,  and  a 
nobler  and  bigger  hearted  soldier  never  wore  a  sword. 
Between  New  Orleans  and  Mobile  it  was  necessary  to 
bury  our  dead  in  the  Gulf.  Having  no  coffins  the  Fed- 
eral lieutenant  and  the  Confederate  chaplain  would 
lay  the  body,  wrapped  in  the  old  blanket  or  quilt,  on  a 
plank  and  then  bind  it  with  ropes  and,  fastening  heavy 


wome;n  0^  The;  coNif:eDE;RACY  49 

irons  to  the  feet,  we  would  gently  lower  it  and  let  it  sink 
down,  down  in  the  briny  deep,  the  cleanest  grave  man 
ever  saw.  The  Northern  lieutenant  not  only  took  off 
his  cap  and  bowed  in  reverence  when  the  Confederate 
chaplain  prayed,  but  with  his  own  hands  assisted  in 
all  the  details  of  every  burial.  So  let  the  North  and  the 
South  together  bury  the  dead  animosities  of  the  past,  take 
the  corpse  of  bitter  falsehood,  the  prolific  mother  of 
prejudice  and  hatred,  bind  it  with  the  cords  of  patriotism 
and  sink  it  into  the  ocean  of  oblivion.  But  publish  the 
truth.  The  truth  lives  and  ought  to  live.  Truth  never 
does  harm ;  but,  with  God  and  man,  it  is  the  peace  angel 
of  reconciliation.  Let  the  testimony  be  the  truth,  the 
whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  and  our  people 
will  abide  by  it  and  every  patriot  will  welcome  the  verdict. 
Who  were  the  women  of  1861  ?  My  old  Tennessee 
father  used  to  teach  me  that  there  is  a  great  deal  more  in 
the  stock  of  people  than  there  is  in  horses.  Blood  will 
tell.  These  women  were  the  direct  descendants  of  those 
bold,  hardy  Englishmen,  who,  under  John  Smith,  Lord 
Delaware,  Lord  Baltimore  and  General  Oglethorpe  made 
settlements  on  the  Southern  shores  and  those  who,  from 
time  to  time,  were  added  to  their  colonies.  They  were 
broad  men,  bringing  broad  ideas.  They  came,  not 
because  they  were  driven  out  of  England,  but  because 
they  wanted  to  come  to  America;  who  thought  it  no  sin 
to  bring  the  best  things  of  old  England,  and  give  them  a 
new  and  better  growth  in  the  new  world ;  who  first  gave 
the  new  world  trial  by  jury  and  the  election  of  governors 
by  popular  vote.  English  cavaliers  who  knew  how  to  be 
gentlemen,  even  in  the  forest.  This  was  the  leading 
blood.  From  time  to  time  it  was  made  stronger  by  a 
considerable  addition  of  Scotch  and  Scotch-Irish  and  an 
occasional  healthful  cross  with  the  very  best  people  of 
the  North,  more  soulful  and  impulsive  by  some  of  the 
blood  of  Ireland,  and  more  vivacious  by  the  French 
Huguenot  in  the  Carolinas  and  the  Creole  in  Louisiana. 
There  thus  grew  up  a  new  English  race — English,  but 
not  too  English;  English  but  American-English  blood, 
4 


50  WOMKN  01^  THEJ  CONI^IjDElRACY 

of  which  old  England  is  proud  to-day.  With  little  or  no 
immigration  for  many  years  from  other  people,  this  blood 
under  our  balmy  sun  produced  a  race  of  its  own — a 
Southern  people,  as  Klopstock  says  of  the  sweet  strong 
language  of  Germany,  "Gesondert,  ungemischt  und  nur 
sich  selber  gleich."  Distinct,  unmixed  and  only  like 
itself. 

This  was  the  blood  that  made  America  great,  the  blood 
from  which  the  South  gave  her  Washington  and  so  many 
men  like  Henry,  Jefferson,  Madison  and  Monroe;  that 
out  of  seventy-two  first  years  of  this  Republic  furnished 
the  President  for  fifty-two  years;  the  Chief  Justice  all 
the  time,  and  the  leaders  of  Senates  and  of  Cabinets; 
the  blood  of  Calhoun  and  Clay  and  Lowndes  and  Pink- 
ney  and  Benton  and  Crawford;  Cobb  and  Berrien,  Hall 
and  Jenkins,  Toombs  and  Stevens;  the  blood  that  pro- 
duced our  Washington,  Sumter  and  Marion  to  achieve 
our  independence  of  Great  Britain ;  Scott  and  Jackson  to 
fight  the  war  of  1812,  Clark  and  Jackson  to  conquer 
from  the  Indians  all  the  splendid  country  between  the 
mountains  and  the  Mississippi,  and  Taylor  and  Scott  to 
win  vast  territories  from  Mexico. 

This  was  the  blood  that  so  often  showed  how  naturally 
and  gracefully  a  Southern  woman  could  "step  from  a 
country  home  to  adorn  the  White  House  at  Washington ; 
the  blood  that  made  the  South  famous  for  its  women, 
stars  at  the  capital  and  at  Saratoga ;  favorites  in  London 
and  Paris;  and  queenly  ladies  in  their  homes,  whether 
that  home  was  a  log  cabin  in  the  forest  or  a  mansion  by 
the  sea.  It  was  common  for  Northern  and  European 
people  to  praise  the  taste  of  Southern  women,  especially 
in  matters  of  dress.  They  did  have  remarkable  taste  in 
dressing,  for  they  had  a  form  to  dress  and  a  face  to  adorn 
that  dress.  Neither  war  nor  poverty  could  mar  their 
grace  of  form  nor  beauty  of  face. 

It  is  said  of  the  great  Bishop  Bascomb,  of  the  Southern 
Methodist  Church,  that,  in  the  early  years  of  his  ministry, 
he  was  so  handsome  and  graceful  in  person,  and  so  neat 
in  his  dress,  that  a  great  many  of  his  brethren  were 
prejudiced  against  him  as  being  what  they  called  "too 


WOMEN  OJ"  THE  CONFEDERACY  Sli 

much  of  a  dandy."  For  a  long  time  the  young  orator 
was  sent  on  mountain  circuits  to  bring  him  down  to  the 
level  of  plain  old-fashioned  Methodism.  It  was  proposed 
to  one  of  his  mountain  members  who  was  very  bitter 
about  the  preacher's  fine  clothes  that  he  give  Bascomb  a 
suit  of  homespun.  The  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  and  on 
the  day  for  Bascomb's  appearance  in  the  plain  clothes  the 
old  brother  was  early  on  the  church  grounds  to  glory  in 
having  made  the  city  preacher  look  like  other  folks. 
Imagine  his  chagrin  when  Bascomb  walked  up,  looking 
in  homespun  as  he  looked  in  broadcloth,  an  Apollo  in 
form  and  a  Brummel  in  style.  "Well  I  do  declare!"  said 
the  old  man.  "Go  it,  brother  Bascomb;  I  give  it  up; 
It  ain't  your  clothes  that's  so  pretty,  it's  jist  you."  So 
our  Southern  women  were  just  as  charming  in  the  shuck 
hats  and  home-made  cotton  dresses  of  1864,  as  in  the 
silks  and  satins  of  i860. 

But  by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.  Walk  with  me 
on  the  streets  of  Richmond  and  Charleston.  Go  with  me 
to  any  of  our  country  churches  throughout  these  South- 
ern States  and  I  will  show  you,  among  the  many  poor 
daughters  of  these  women,  that  same  classic  face  that 
tells  of  the  blood  in  their  veins.  Go  with  me  back  to  the 
Confederate  army  and  you  will  see  in  such  generals  as  the 
Lees,  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  Breckinridge,  Toombs, 
the  Colquitts,  Gordon,  Evans,  Gracie,  Jeb.  Stuart,  Price, 
Hampton,  Tracy,  Ramseur,  Ashby  and  thousands  of 
private  soldiers  that  face  and  form  that  tell  of  the 
knightly  blood  in  the  veins  of  the  mothers  that  bore  them. 

South  Georgia  is  to  be  congratulated  that  in  the  Con- 
federate monument  recently  unveiled  at  Cuthbert,  the 
artist  has  at  least  given  what  is  sadly  lacking  in  other 
Confederate  monuments  to  private  soldiers,  the  genuine 
face  of  the  Southern  soldier,  that  face  which  is  a  just 
compliment  to  the  Confederate  mother.  The  artists  who 
cast  some  other  monuments  in  the  South  had  seen  too 
little  of  Southern  people,  and  had  put  on  some  of  our 
monuments  the  pug  nose  and  bullet  head  of  other  people. 

Our  mothers  and  grandmothers  lived  mostly  in  the 
country,  and  drank  in  a  splendid  vigor  from  the  ozone  of 


52  woMEjN  OS*  thij  coni''i;de;racy 

field,  and  forest,  and  mountain.  They  were  trained 
mostly  at  home  by  private  teachers  or  in  common  schools 
run  on  common  sense  principles,  and  in  "the  old-time  re- 
ligion," without  "isms,"  fanaticism,  or  cant.  They  were 
taught  the  philosophy  of  life  by  fathers  who  thought  and 
manners  by  mothers  who  were  the  soul  of  inborn  refine- 
ment. They  thought  for  themselves,  and  indulged  no 
craze  for  things  new,  and  they  aped  no  foreigners. 
In  conversation  they  didn't  end  every  sentence  with  the 
interrogation  point,  but  followed  nature  and  let  their 
voices  fall  at  periods.  They  never  said  "thanks,"  but  in 
the  good  old  English  of  Addison  and  Goldsmith,  said  "I 
thank  you."  They  never  spoke  of  a  sweetheart  as  "my 
fellow,"  and  would  have  scorned  such  a  word  as  "mash." 
They  never  walked  "arm  clutch,"  nor  allowed  Sunday 
newspapers  to  make  five-cent  museums  of  their  pictures. 
Their  entertainments  v/cre  famous  for  elegance  and 
pleasure,  but  they  had  no  euchre-clubs.  Indeed,  we 
doubt  if  many  of  them  ever  heard  of  a  woman's  club  of 
any  kind.  They  were  fond  of  "society,"  but  would  have 
had  a  profound  contempt  for  that  so-called  "society"  of 
our  day,  in  which  the  man  is  a  prince  who  can  lead  the 
german,  spend  money  for  bouquets  and  part  his  hair  in 
the  middle.  They  didn't  wear  bloomers,  nor  did  many 
of  them  ever  dress  decolette.  They  were  clothed  and  in 
their  right  mind.  They  never  mounted  platforms  to 
speak  nor  pulpits  to  preach,  and  yet  their  influence  and 
inspiration  gave  Southern  pulpits  and  platforms  a  world- 
wide fame.  Their  highest  ambition  was  to  be  president 
of  home.  They  were  Southern  women  everywhere,  at 
home  and  abroad,  in  church  and  on  the  streets,  in  parlor 
and  kitchen,  when  they  rode,  when  they  walked.  Gentle, 
but  brave ;  modest,  but  independent.  Seeking  no  recog- 
nition, the  true  Southern  woman  found  it  already  won  by 
her  worth;  courting  no  attention,  at  every  turn  it  met 
her,  to  do  willing  homage  to  her  native  grace  and  gen- 
uine womanhood. 

Now,  to  appreciate  the  enthusiasm  of  such  women  in 
the  Confederate  war,  you  must  remember  that  great 
principles  were  at  stake  in  that  struggle,  and  that  woman 


WOMKN  Of'  THD  CONI^DDIlRACY  53 

grasps  great  principles  as  clearly  as  man,  and  with  a  zeal 
known  only  to  herself.  See  with  what  prompt  intuition 
and  sober  enthusiasm  woman  received  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, Martha,  of  Bethany,  uttered  the  great  keynote  of 
the  Christian  creed  long  before  an  apostle  penned  a  line. 
The  primitive  evangelist  Timothy,  the  favorite  of  the 
great  Apostle  Paul,  was  trained  by  his  grandmother 
Lois  and  his  mother  Eunice ;  and  the  pulpit  orator  Apol- 
los  studied  at  the  feet  of  Priscilla.  The  great  lamented 
Dr.  Thornwell,  of  South  Carolina,  who  was  justly  called 
the  "John  C.  Calhoun  of  the  Presbyterian  Church"  of  the 
United  States,  loved  to  tell  it  that  he  learned  his  theology 
from  his  poor  old  country  Baptist  mother.  In  politics,  as 
in  religion,  our  mothers  may  not  have  read  much,  and 
they  talked  less,  but  they  heard  much  and  thought  the 
more.  Before  the  war  the  reproach  was  often  hurled  at 
Southern  men  that  they  talked  politics.  God's  true  peo- 
ple talked  religion  from  Abel  to  the  invention  of  the  art 
of  printing.  They  had  a  religion  to  talk.  Our  fathers 
did  talk  politics,  for,  thank  God,  they  had  politics  worth 
talking — not  the  picayune  politics  of  the  demagogue 
office-seeker  of  our  day;  not  the  almighty  dollar  politics 
of  the  bloated  bond-holder  and  the  trusts,  the  one-idea 
craze  of  the  silver  mine-owner,  nor  the  tariff  greed  of  the 
manufacturer;  not  the  imported  European  communism 
that  would  crush  one  class  to  build  up  another,  not  the 
wild  anarchy  that  would  pull  down  everything  above  it 
and  blast  everything  around  it. 

The  South  was  intensely  American,  and  her  people 
loved  American  politics  and  talked  American  politics. 
She  entered  into  the  Revolutionary  war  with  all  her  soul. 
Southern  statesmanship  lifted  that  struggle  from  a  mere 
rebellion  to  a  war  of  nations  by  manly  secession  from 
Great  Britain  in  North  Carolina's  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence at  Mecklenburg.  The  Philadelphia  declaration 
was  drawn  up  by  the  South's  Jefferson  and  proposed  by 
Virginia.  This  was  the  great  secession  of  1776.  To 
the  Revolutionary  war  the  South  sent  one  hundred  out  of 
every  two  hundred  and  nine  men  of  military  age,  while 
the  North  sent  one  hundred  out  of  every  two  hundred 


54  WOM^N  01?  THD  CONFEDERACY 

and  twenty-seven.  (We  quote  from  the  official  report  of 
General  Knox,  Secretary  of  War.)  Virginia  sent 
56,721  men.  South  Carolina  sent  31,000  men,  while 
New  York,  with  more  than  double  her  military  popula- 
tion, sent  29,830.  New  Hampshire,  with  double  the 
population  of  South  Carolina,  sent  only  18,000.  The  lit- 
tle Southern  States  sent  more  men  in  proportion  to  popu- 
lation than  even  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut,  who 
did  their  part  so  well  in  that  war. 

It  was  Southern  politics  that  proposed  the  great  union 
of  the  sovereign  States  in  1787.  To  that  union  the  three 
States  of  Virginia,  North  Carolina,  and  Georgia  have 
added  out  of  their  own  bosoms  ten  more  great  States. 
These  Southern  States  were  the  mothers  of  States,  and 
most  naturally  did  they  talk  of  States  and  State's  rights. 

Southern  politics,  prevailing  in  the  national  councils 
against  the  bitter  protests  of  New  England,  carried 
through  the  war  of  1812;  added  Florida  to  the  Union, 
and,  by  the  purchase  of  Louisiana,  all  the  Trans-Missis- 
sippi valley  from  the  Gulf  to  Canada.  It  was  Southern 
politics  against  the  furious  opposition  of  New  England 
that  annexed  Texas,  and,  by  the  war  with  Mexico, 
brought  in  the  vast  territory  far  away  to  the  Pacific. 
The  South  sent  45,000  volunteers  to  the  Mexican  war; 
the  whole  North,  with  three  times  the  population,  sent 
23,000.  Thus  the  South  was  the  mother  of  territories, 
and  was  it  not  natural  that  she  should  talk  of  territories 
and  of  her  rights  in  the  territories  ? 

In  political  platforms,  in  legislative  enactments,  and 
notably  in  the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  in  i860,  the  more 
populous  North  declared  that  the  Southern  States  should 
be  shut  out  from  all  share  in  the  territories  bought  with 
common  treasure  and  blood.  Our  women,  a  child,  a 
negro,  could  see  the  iniquity  of  the  claim. 

The  action  of  the  North  in  regard  to  national  territory 
was  an  edict,  too,  that  the  negroes,  through  no  fault  of 
their  own,  should  be  shut  up  in  one  little  corner  of  the 
country. 

Then  when  the  South  sought  the  only  alternative  left 
her,  that  of  peaceable  secession,  her  right  to  go  was  jus- 


W0MI:N  01^  THE  CONEfED^RACY  55 

tifiecl  by  the  terms  of  the  Constitution;  by  the  distinct 
understanding  among  the  sovereign  States  when  they  en- 
tered the  Union,  more  directly  insisted  and  put  on  record 
by  the  three  States  of  Virginia,  New  York,  and  Rhode 
Island  than  any  other  State;  by  the  secession  conven- 
tion of  New  England  in  the  war  of  1812;  by  the  North- 
ern secession  convention  in  Ohio  in  1859  ^^"^^  the  reiter- 
ated declarations  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  and  by  Wen- 
dell Phillips,  and  Horace  Greeley,  William  Lloyd  Garri- 
son and  the  other  great  leaders  of  Northern  thought  in 
i860. 

As  to  coercing  the  States  back  into  the  Union,  Presi- 
dent Buchanan  well  said  at  the  time  there  was  "not  a 
shadow  of  authority"  for  it,  and  Governor  Seymour,  of 
New  York,  truthfully  said  "coercion  is  revolution." 

Again,  remember  that  wrongs  pierce  deeper  into  the 
heart  of  woman  than  into  the  more  callous  soul  of  man. 
For  years  vast  multitudes  of  the  people  of  the  North  had 
kept  up  a  furious  war  against  the  South  in  books  and 
newspapers ;  in  pulpits  and  religious  conventions ;  in  po- 
litical platforms  and  State  assemblies.  Oh,  it  makes  the 
blood  run  cold  to  think  of  the  relentless  malignity  of  the 
fanaticism  of  those  days.  No  parlors  nor  churches  too 
sacred  for  bitter  onslaught  on  Southern  people;  no  epi- 
thets too  vile;  no  slanders  too  black;  no  curses  too 
deadly  to  be  hurled  at  Southern  men  and  women.  But 
war, — yes,  blood-red  war  was  really,  and  almost  formally 
declared  by  the  Northern  endorsement  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher's  "Sharpe's  rifles"  crusade  against  Southern 
settlers  in  Kansas;  and  the  war  of  1861  was  actually 
begun  by  John  Brown's  murderous  raid  at  Harper's 
Ferry  in  Virginia  in  1859.  The  North  made  him  a  hero 
martyr.  John  Brown's  rifle  shot  in  Virginia  only 
alarmed  the  angel  of  peace.  The  Northern  applause  of 
John  Brown  drove  her  away  from  our  unhappy  land.  By 
his  apotheosis  the  Northern  people  made  his  rifle  shot  at 
Harper's  Ferry  the  skirmish  firing  of  the  impending  war, 
to  be  answered  by  our  manly  cannon  at  Charleston  in 
1 86 1.  Puritan  intolerance  scourged  Roger  Williams  out 
of   Massachusetts   for  nonconformity   in  religion;    and 


56  WOMEN  01^  THE  CONFEDERACY 

Puritanism  scourged  the  South  out  of  the  Union  in  1861 
for  nonconformity  in  pohtics.  The  Southern  woman's 
heart  felt  to  the  very  core  and  resented  as  only  woman 
can  resent,  the  sting  of  that  merciless  lash. 

This  is  an  age  of  monuments,  and  your  speaker  has 
undertaken  to  erect  one  in  book  form  to  the  memory  of 
Confederate  women.  When  this  thought  comes  to  be 
put  in  marble  or  brass,  as  it  will  some  day  soon,  let  that 
monument  rest  on  the  broad  granite  foundation  of  truth. 
Then  as  the  artist  begins  to  put  in  bas  relief  the  symbols 
of  the  virtues  of  the  Southern  women  of  1861,  and  the 
souvenirs  of  her  heroic  life,  let  the  first  scene  be  that  of 
a  scroll,  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  held  in 
the  unsullied  hands  of  the  great  Jefferson  Davis,  as  he 
marches  out  from  the  United  States  court,  under  whose 
warrants  he  had  been  held  for  treason,  again  a  free  man. 
Let  that  picture  tell  of  the  undying  loyalty  of  our  mother 
and  her  people  to  the  organic  law  of  the  land:  that 
Southern  men  wrote  it  and  their  sons  have  ever  honored 
and  loved  it:  Tell  it  in  Gath,  publish  it  in  the  streets  of 
Aekelon,  that  those  who  crushed  us  were  the  men  who 
despised,  hawked  at  and  cursed  the  Constitution. 

The  South  at  Montgomery  swore  fresh  allegiance  to 
the  Constitution  handed  down  by  our  American  fathers, 
and  carried  with  her  through  all  the  wilderness  march 
the  sacred  old  Ark  of  the  Covenant.  And  when  our  Con- 
federate head,  the  peerless  Jefferson  Davis,  our  chosen 
standard  bearer  of  State  sovereignty  and  home  rule,  was 
brought  to  trial,  bearing  in  himself  the  alleged  sins  of  us 
all,  charged  with  being  a  rebel,  that  document  showed 
him  to  be  a  stainless  patriot;  and  though  the  mob  of 
millions  was  shouting,  "Crucify  him,  crucify  him!"  the 
highest  courts  of  the  Federal  Government  declared  by  his 
quiet  and  silent,  but  significant  release,  as  Pilate  did  of 
Jesus,  "We  find  no  fault  in  this  man."  The  Constitution 
of  the  United  States  is  a  standing  declaration  of  the  sin- 
lessness  of  the  Confederate  cause. 

Let  the  artist  next  put  on  the  monument  a  picture  of 
an  old  negro  woman,  the  old  Southern  "mammy,"  with 
the  child  of  her  mistress  in  her  arms.     Near  by  let  old 


wome;n  op  thd  coni^e^deracy  57 

Uncle  Jacob  be  leading  the  little  white  boy,  while  down  in 
the  cornfield  near  by  are  seen  Jacob's  sons  and  daughters 
at  work  singing  the  cheerful  songs  which  the  poor  negro 
now  has  heart  to  sing  no  more.  In  the  distance  picture 
the  faithful  Bob  or  Mingo  coming  from  the  battlefield, 
bearing  the  dead  body  of  his  young  master. 

Let  that  picture  tell  to  all  generations  the  story  of  slav- 
ery. We  had  slavery,  but,  thank  God,  it  was  Southern 
slavery, — Christian  slavery.  Truth  will  explain  the  para- 
dox, if  there  was  any  paradox.  It  had  its  evils,  and  no- 
body blushes  because  we  had  it,  nor  whines  because  it  is 
gone.  But  as  for  any  sin  of  the  South  in  it,  let  the  first 
stone  of  condemnation  be  thrown  by  that  people  who  had 
no  fathers  cruel  to  their  children,  no  husbands  harsh  to 
their  wives,  and  no  rich  man  unjust  to  the  poor  laborer. 

The  South  never  enslaved  a  single  negro,  never 
brought  one  to  America.  Georgia  was  the  first  of  the  set- 
tlements to  forbid  slavery,  and  Georgia  and  Virginia  were 
the  foremost  States  in  cutting  off  the  slave  trade.  The 
colony  of  Virginia  petitioned  twenty  times  against  the 
continuance  of  the  slave  trade.  The  negroes  were  en- 
slaved by  their  own  savage  chiefs  in  Africa.  England 
and  the  Northern  people  brought  them  to  America  and 
sold  them  for  gold.  The  Dutch  brought  twenty 
to  Virginia,  but  were  forbidden  to  bring  any  more.  When 
found  less  profitable  in  the  colder  climate  of  the  North, 
the  negroes  were  sold  South  to  become  valuable  tillers  of 
the  soil,  and,  after  the  invention  of  the  cotton  gin,  to  make 
the  country  rich.  The  Northern  people  at  a  good  profit 
sold  their  slaves  down  South,  put  the  money  at  interest, 
suddenly  got  pious,  and  waged  a  fierce  war  on  the  people 
who  bought  them.     That's  history. 

In  1 86 1,  on  the  first  Sunday  after  the  news  of  the  fall 
of  Fort  Sumter  reached  England,  the  author,  in  company 
with  a  friend  from  Pennsylvania,  who  was  an  anti-slavery 
man,  attended  services  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  chapel  in  Lon- 
don. The  great  city  was  wrapped  in  the  deepest  gloom. 
The  war  storm  in  America  was  expected  to  ruin  manu- 
factures and  trade  throughout  Great  Britain.  Mr. 
Spurgeon  and  his  people  seemed  bowed  down  with  sor- 


58  wome;n  oi'  the;  con?i;de;racy 

row.  On  returning  to  our  hotel  my  Northern  friend  re- 
marked that  he  knew  I   didn't  approve  of  Spurgeon's 

prayer  about  slavery.     I   said  to  him,   "R ,  just 

there  you  are  mistaken.  Some  of  my  people  in  Alabama 
some  time  ago  burned  Spurgeon's  books  because  of  some 
of  his  abolition  views,  but  when  I  go  home  and  tell  them 
how  this  great  Christian  prayed  to-day  they  will  respect 
his  honesty  and  sincerity.  We  blame  nobody  for  being 
anti-slavery,  but  we  do  abominate  fanatical  abolitionism. 
Spurgeon  is  no  fanatic.  Listen  to  this  Englishman :  *0 
God,  our  people  are  in  the  ashes  of  woe.  A  dreadful  war 
beyond  the  ocean  has  cut  off  our  commerce  and  closed  our 
factories,  and  thousands  of  our  poor  must  sadly  suffer. 
The  people  of  the  American  States  are  bone  of  our  bone 
and  flesh  of  our  flesh.  O  Lord,  pity  them,  and  pity  us. 
O  God,  they  and  we  have  sinned  in  enslaving  our  fellow 
men.  England  put  slavery  on  her  colonies  against  the 
protest  of  those  Southern  people,  and  England  must  suf- 
fer Thy  judgments  for  her  part.  Forgive  the  North,  for- 
give the  South,  and  forgive  England.  O  pity  especially 
the  people  of  that  section  where  the  war  will  bear  so 
heavily  and  pity  the  poor  everywhere.' 

"Now,  R — ,  that's  a  Christian  prayer  that  we  re- 
spect; and  while  Spurgeon  goes  back  one  hundred 
and  fifty  and  even  two  hundred  years  and  tells  the 
truth  about  slavery,  and  for  his  English  people,  even 
to-day,  shoulders  their  responsibility  in  this  matter, 
how  are  thousands  (thank  God,  but  not  all)  of  your 
Northern  preachers  in  your  churches  at  the  North 
praying  to-day?  'We  thank  Thee,  Lord,  that  this  war 
has  come.  Somebody  will  get  hurt,  but  we  people  up 
this  way  will  come  out  all  right  because  we  are  so  in- 
nocent and  so  righteous.  O  Lord,  we  thank  Thee  that 
we  are  holy  and  not  as  other  men  are,  especially  these 
wicked  Southern  people.  We  thank  Thee  for  short  mem- 
ories ;  that  we  have  forgotten  that  we  brought  the  negroes 
from  Africa,  kept  them  as  long  as  it  paid  us,  an4  then 
sold  them  to  these  Southerners;  that  we  have  fof^61:ten 
that  when  Virginia  and  Maryland  wanted  to  put  an  end 
to  the  slave  trade,  we  out-voted  them  and  kept  the  slave 


WOMEN  OF  THE)  confe;deracy  59 

trade  open  until  1808.  Lord,  we  could  have  seceded 
from  these  savage  Southern  States  long  ago  and  got  rid 
of  any  connection  with  slavery,  for  we  believed  in  secess- 
ion until  just  now.  But,  Lord,  if  we  let  the  South  go, 
as  Mr,  Lincoln  says,  where  will  we  get  our  revenues? 
We  thank  Thee  too  that  we  have  forgotten  that  those 
Southerners  can't  get  rid  of  the  negroes  without  kick- 
ing them  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Lord,  we  thank  Thee 
that  we  can  see  nothing  but  our  own  righteousness.  We 
have  tried  to  reform  those  wicked  Southerners  and  make 
them  good  like  ourselves,  but  we  couldn't.  Now,  Lord, 
we  have  brought  on  a  war  and  we  turn  it  over  to  Thee. 
We'll  hire  Dutchmen  and  Irishmen  to  help  Thee  do  our 
fighting,  and  we'll  stand  off  and  enjoy  the  fun.  Now,  as 
Thou  art  about  to  pour  out  the  vials  of  Thy  mighty 
wrath  upon  the  abominable  Southern  people,  do,  Lord, 
just  give  'em — fits.'  Now,  R ,  there's  the  differ- 
ence between  honest  anti-slavery  in  England  and  the  hy- 
pocrisy of  the  crusade  in  America."  * 
The  truth  is  that  in  Southern  homes,  the  negro  pros- 
pered and  multiplied  as  no  other  laboring  class  has  ever 
done.  The  South  shared  with  him  its  bread,  its  medi- 
cines, its  homes  and  its  churches.  M.  de  La  Tours,  the 
eminent  French  hygienist,  truthfully  said  that  "The 
slaves  of  the  South  were  the  best  fed  and  the  best  cared 
for  laborers  that  the  world  ever  saw."  No  chain-gang,  no 
penitentiary,  for  the  negro,  no  lynchings,  and  no  crimes 
to  be  lynched  for,  when  the  negro  was  under  the  influence 
of  our  mothers  and  grandmothers.  God  forgive  the 
fanatic  who  in  later  days  put  folly  in  his  head  and  the 
devil  in  his  heart.  Our  mothers  trusted  him  and  he 
trusted  them.  All  through  the  war,  while  nearly  all  the 
white  men  were  away  in  the  army,  the  negro  slave  was 
the  protector  and  the  support  of  Southern  families.  Our 
mothers  would  have  died  for  the  negroes,  and  negroes 
would  have  died  for  them.  In  Wilson's  raid  near  Colum- 
^jJBWIfcir  h^s  soldiers  were  about  to  destroy  a  patch  of 
cl^^^jiging  to  a  widow.  The  brave  woman  took  her 
gulfi|fiB^  declared  she  would  shoot  the  first  man  that 
toucnea  her  property.     In  their  rage  they  raised  their 


6o  WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONFEDERACY 

rifles  to  shoot  her  down.  Just  then  her  old  cook  rushed 
in  between  them,  saying,  "If  you  are  going  to  kill  'old 
miss/  you'll  have  to  kill  me,  too." 

When  Sherman  was  plundering  South  Carolina,  some 
of  his  soldiers  heard  that  a  young  lady  had  a  very  fine 
gold  watch  concealed  in  her  bosom.  They  demanded  it, 
and  on  her  refusal  they  were  about  to  seize  her,  when 
Delia,  her  faithful  servant,  defied  them.  "Fore  God, 
buckra,  if  one  of  younner  put  your  nasty  hand  on  dis 
chile  of  my  ole  missus  you  got  to  knock  Delia  down  fust." 

The  monument  to  the  Southern  woman  will  be  a  monu- 
ment to  our  faithful  old  Dinahs  and  Delias  too.  The  old 
ex-slaves  will  gather  at  its  base  and  as  the  tears  stream 
down  their  dusky  cheeks  they  will  say,  as  they  say  now, 
"Dat's  de  best  friend  the  poor  nigger  ever  had,"  and  en- 
lightened negroes,  like  Booker  Washington,  will  tell  the 
true  story  that  out  of  slavery  the  North  got  money,  the 
South  got  ruin,  and  the  negro  got  civilization,  Christian- 
ity, and  contentment. 

Let  the  next  picture  be  an  ear  of  corn,  a  spinning-wheel, 
and  a  hand-loom.  Ceres  was  the  goddess  of  the  Sunny 
South,  and  the  staff  of  our  armies  was  the  corn  of  our 
own  fields.  The  South,  however  prosperous,  was  not 
made  up  of  rich  people.  Not  one  man  in  ten  owned  a 
slave;  not  one  slave  holder  in  ten  was  wealthy.  The 
small  farms,  many  of  them  under  the  care  of  the  soldier's 
wife  and  the  faithful  old  negro  foreman,  and  many  more 
tilled  by  the  soldier's  boys  under  the  eye  of  their  mother, 
yielded  a  very  large  share  of  the  Confederate  supplies. 
While  Minerva  taught  our  rnen  war  she  taught  our 
women  household  work,  and  quickly  did  she  make  South- 
ern beauties  Arachnes  at  the  loom  and  Penelopes  with  the 
knitting  needles.  They  knew  how  to  adorn  the  parlor 
and  play  the  piano,  but,  when  necessity  came,  like 
Lemuel's  mother,  they  "sought  wool  and  flax  and 
wrought  diligently  with  their  hands,"  or  even,  HI 
becca,  they  could  go  out  into  the  field  and  draw^ 
the  cattle;  or,  like  Ruth,  hold  the  plow  steady 
rows,  or  glean  grain  at  harvest  time.  Fals^ 
have  pictured  our  mothers  as  doll  babies.     Let  that  monu- 


W0M]BN  O^  TH^  CONIfEDHRACY  6l 

nient  tell  of  the  wonderful  pluck,  energy,  and  strength, 
while  it  tells  of  the  patriotism  of  the  smartest  and  sweet- 
est and  bravest  and  strongest  doll  babies  the  world  ever 
saw. 

The  artist  must  do  his  best  when  he  puts  on  that  monu- 
ment a  little  white  hand — the  well-shaped,  classic  hand 
of  the  Southern  woman.  In  that  hand  must  be  held  the 
little  white  handkerchief.  What  a  part  that  handkerchief 
played  in  the  war!  Old  soldiers,  as  you  rode  off  down 
the  lane,  again  and  again  you  turned  to  take  the  farewell 
look  at  home,  sweet  home,  and  there  was  that  little  white 
handkerchief  waving  at  the  gate ;  or  when  your  company 
left  the  railroad  station  there,  all  around,  were  the  good 
women  of  the  neighborhood,  and  as  you  looked  far  back 
down  the  track  these  little  white  flags  bade  you  woman's 
"good  bye  and  God  bless  you."  You  never  forgot  it. 
Whether  we  marched  past  country  homes  or  through  the 
streets  of  cities,  woman's  heart-cheer  greeted  us  in  the 
handkerchief  from  the  window.  Perhaps  it  was  held  in 
the  rheumatic  hand  of  Mrs.  General  Lee  as  she  looked  out 
from  her  knitting  in  her  Richmond  home,  or,  later 
on  we  could  see  behind  it  the  sad,  mourning  sleeve  of 
Stonewall  Jackson's  widow.  I  tell  you,  my  countrymen, 
the  bonny  blue  flag  or  the  Southern  Cross  was  the  banner 
of  the  soldier  on  the  battlefield,  but  the  little  white  hand- 
kerchief was  our  sacred  banner  behind  the  battlefield. 
The  one,  in  the  hands  of  the  color  sergeants,  guided  our 
movements  in  the  army ;  but  the  other,  in  woman's  hand, 
inspired  our  movements  everywhere. 

Put  here  a  knapsack,  the  rough,  old,  oil-cloth  knap- 
sack of  the  Confederate  soldier.  Poor  fellow!  he  had 
but  few  clothes  in  it,  but  it  contained  something  dearer 
to  him  than  clothes — letters  from  home.  He  kept  them 
all,  the  most  of  them  written  on  the  blank  side  of  old  wall 
paper  and  inclosed  in  brown  envelopes,  which  perhaps  had 
been  turned  so  as  to  be  twice  used.  When  our  poor  boys 
were  ki-lled,  their  letters  were  gathered  by  the  chaplains, 
litter  beards  and  burial  details,  to  be  sent  to  their  homes. 
I  am  not  going  to  tell  what  sort  of  letters  were  found  in 
many  knapsacks  on  our  battlefields,  but  it  is  a  fact,  borne 


62  WOMEJN  01^  THK  CONI^EDE^RACY 

out  by  the  testimony  of  these  men,  that  never  was 
there  found  a  letter  from  a  Confederate  soldier's  wife 
to  her  husband  whose  words  would  make  the  most  modest 
blush,  or  in  which  she  exerted  any  of  her  woman's  power 
or  used  any  of  woman's  arts  to  decoy  him  from  the  army. 
Here  is  a  specimen  of  a  letter  from  home  in  a  Confederate 
knapsack : 

MiTCHEi.1.  County,  Ga.,  July  20,  1863. 

Mr.  Jno.  Iverson, 

Company  B,  Fourth  Regiment,  Army  of  Virginia. 
Dear  John  : 

This  leaves  us  all  getting  along  very  well.  Nobody 
sick,  and  we  finished  laying  by  the  corn.  The  cattle  are 
fat  and  the  hogs  doing  finely.  We  sell  some  butter  and 
eggs  every  week.  We  have  plenty  to  eat,  and  know  that 
it's  only  you  that's  having  a  hard  time.  But  we  are  all 
so  proud  that  you  are  fighting  for  your  country.  Will 
be  so  glad  when  you  can  get  a  furlough,  but  we  know 
that  you  must,  and  will  stick  to  your  post  of  duty.  Willie 
and  Jennie  send  kisses  to  their  brave  papa.  We  never 
forget  to  pray  for  you.  If  you  get  killed,  darling,  God 
will  take  care  of  us  and  we'll  all  meet  in  heaven. 

Your,  Mary. 

That's  the  way  they  wrote.  Let  that  knapsack  tell  for- 
ever of  the  fortitude,  the  purity,  the  loyalty  and  refine- 
ment of  the  Southern  woman. 

Let  the  next  picture  be  the  humble  hospital  couch. 

"Up  and  down  through  the  wards  where  the  fever 

Stalks,  noisome,  and  gaunt,  and  impure; 
You  must  go  with  your  steadfast  endeavor 

To  comfort,  to  counsel,  to  cure. 
I  grant  you  the  task  is  superhuman. 

But  strength  will  be  given  to  you 
To  do  for  those  loved  ones  what  woman 

Alone  in  her  pity  can  do." 

Our  women  gave  their  carpets  to  make  blankets,  their 
dresses  to  be  made  into  shirts  for  the  soldiers,  and  their 
linen  to  furnish  lint  for  their  wounds,  and  then,  clad  in 
home-spun,  they  gave  themselves.  Nearly  every  town 
and  village  in  the  South  had  its  Soldiers'  Aid  Society 
and  its  hospital.     Thousands  and  thousands  of  the  poor 


WOM^N  01^  THE  CONFEDERACY  63 

fellows  were  taken  to  private  houses,  even  away  out  in 
the  country,  and  tenderly  cared  for.  There  was  scarcely 
a  woman  near  a  battlefield  or  a  railroad  who  did  not 
nurse  a  soldier.  Nearly  every  woman  in  Richmond 
served  regularly  on  hospital  committees.  One  of  these, 
a  Mrs.  Roland,  was  blind,  and  her  sweet  guitar  and 
sweeter  song  cheered  many  a  poor  hero.  One  of  the 
songs  of  these  days  was  "Let  me  kiss  him  for  his 
Mother."  Here's  a  story  to  show  how  woman's  petting, 
which  always  spoils  a  boy  and  sometimes  a  husband,  oc- 
casionally found  a  hard  case  in  a  Confederate  soldier. 
Among  the  sick  in  Richmond  was  a  brave  young  fellow, 
who  was  a  great  favorite  and  the  only  son  of  a  widowed 
mother,  who  was  far  away  beyond  the  Mississippi.  One 
morning  the  report  got  out  that  he  was  dying  in  the 
hospital,  and  one  of  the  prettiest  and  sweetest  young 
ladies  in  the  city  was  so  touched  by  the  sad  story  that  she 
determined  to  go  and  kiss  him  for  his  mother.  She  has-, 
tened  to  the  ward  where  the  poor  youth  was  lying  high 
up  on  one  of  the  upper  tiers  of  bunks  and  quickly  told  her 
mission  to  the  nurses.  "I  don't  know  him,  but  oh,  its 
so  sad,  and  I  have  come  to  'kiss  him  for  his  mother' 
away  out  in  Texas."  Now  he  wasn't  dying  at  all,  but 
was  much  better,  and  as  he  peeped  at  the  sweet  face,  the 
rascal,  raising  his  head  over  the  edge  of  the  bunk,  said, 
"Never  mind  the  old  lady,  miss,  just  go  it  on  your  own 
hook."  Now  that's  just  the  thanks  these  ununiformed 
sisters  of  mercy  sometimes  got  for  their  pains. 

Put  on  this  monument  a  pair  of  crutches.  You  never 
see  the  bright  star  of  womanhood  until  it  shines  in  the 
darkness  of  man's  misfortune.  It  is  the  furnace  of  man's 
suffering  that  brings  out  the  pure  gold  of  her  love. 
Here's  a  specimen.  On  a  cold  winter  day,  when  Lee's 
army  was  marching  through  one  of  the  lower  sections  of 
Virginia,  some  of  the  veterans  were  completely  bare- 
footed, and  the  Sixth  Georgia  Regiment  was  passing.  A 
plain  country  woman  was  standing  in  the  group  by  the 
road  side.  "Lord,  a  mercy,"  said  she,  "there's  a  poor  sol- 
dier ain't  go  no  shoes,"  and  off  came  hers  in  a  jiffy  and 
she  ordered  her  negro  woman  standing  by  to  give  hers 


64  WOMEN  Olf  THEJ  CONJ'DDDRACY 

up,  too.  The  good  woman  wore  number  threes,  and 
the  soldier  who  got  them  was  Jake  Quarles,  of  Company 
B,  Dade  County,  Georgia,  who  wore  number  twelves. 

Soon  after  the  war  I  once  expressed  my  sympathy  to  a 
young  lady  friend  who  was  about  to  marry  a  young  one- 
armed  soldier.  "I  want  no  sympathy.  I  think  it  a  great 
privilege  and  honor  to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  who  lost  his 
arm  fighting  for  my  country,"  was  her  prompt  reply. 
That's  your  Southern  girl. 

When  John  Redding,  of  Randolph  County,  Ga.,  was 
brought  home  wounded  from  Chickamauga,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  amputate  his  leg.  On  the  day  fixed  for  the 
dangerous  operation,  his  many  friends  were  gathered  at 
his  father's  country  home.  Among  them  was  Miss 
Carrie  McNeil,  to  whom  he  was  engaged.  After  he  had 
passed  safely  through  the  ordeal  she,  of  course,  was  al- 
lowed to  be  the  first  to  go  in  to  see  him.  They  were  left 
alone  for  a  while.  The  next  to  go  in  was  an  aunt  of 
Miss  Carrie's,  and  as  she  shook  hands  with  poor  John 
and  was  about  to  pass  on,  he  said,  "Ain't  you  going  to 
kiss  me,  too  ?"  Ah,  what  a  tale  that  question  told.  The 
gallant  soldier  had  offered  to  release  his  betrothed  from 
her  engagement,  but  she  said,  "No,  no,  John,  I  can't  give 
you  up,  and  I  love  you  better  than  ever,"  and  a  kiss  had 
sealed  their  holy  love. 

When  Tom  Phipps,  of  Randolph  County,  Ga.,  came 
home  on  crutches  he  offered  to  release  Miss  Maggie 
Pharham  from  her  engagement.  "No,  Tom,"  she  said. 
"We  can  make  a  living."  There  are  hundreds  of  these 
noble,  God-given  Carrie  NcNeils  and  Maggie  Pharhams 
all  over  our  war-wrecked  South. 

Let  the  next  emblem  be  the  oak  riven  by  the 
lightning,  and  the  tender  ivy  entwining  itself  around 
it.  Let  it  tell  of  the  sufferings  of  the  refugee  father 
and  the  wreck  of  the  old  man  in  the  track  of  such 
vandals  as  Sherman,  Hunter,  Sheridan,  Milroy  and 
Kilpatrick.  Let  it  tell  of  the  horrors  of  the  years 
of  so-called  peace  that  followed  the  war.  North- 
ern soldiers  killed  our  young  men  in  war;  politicians 
killed  our  old  men  in  peace.     Sherman  burned  houses 


WOMKN  Olf  The  CONJ'ElDEiRACY  65 

from  Atlanta  to  Bentonville.  Thad  Stevens  in  Congress 
blighted  every  acre  of  ground  from  Baltimore  to  San 
Antonio.  The  war  of  shot  and  shell  lasted  four  years; 
the  war  of  blind,  revengeful  reconstruction  legislation 
lasted  twenty  years.  War  marshalled  our  enemies  on 
the  battlefield;  reconstruction  made  enemies  of  the  men 
who  had  held  our  plow  handles  and  stood  around  our 
tables.  War  put  the  South  under  the  rule  of  soldiers; 
reconstruction  put  us  under  the  heel  of  the  rapacious 
carpet-bagger  and  negro  plunderers.  War  crushed  some 
of  our  people.  Vindictive  legislation  crushed  all  our 
people.  War  made  the  South  an  Aceldama;  reconstruc- 
tion made  it  a  Gehenna.  Grant  held  back  the  red  right 
hands  of  Stanton  and  Holt  from  the  throats  of  Lee  and 
his  paroled  soldiers :  alas,  Lincoln  was  dead,  and  his 
patriotic  arm  was  not  there  to  hold  back  Thad  Stevens 
and  his  revolutionary  congress  from  our  prostrate  citi- 
zens. 

Amid  these  horrors  our  young  men  could  hope,  but  to 
our  old  men  was  nothing  left  but  despair.  Robbed  of 
their  property  after  peace  was  declared,  without  a  dollar 
of  compensation,  their  lands  made  valueless  or  confis- 
cated; they  themselves  disfranchised  and  their  slaves 
made  their  political  masters,  too  old  to  change  and  re- 
cuperate, too  old  to  hope  even,  but  too  manly  to  whine, 
they  stood  as  desolate  and  uncomplaining  as  that  old 
oak. 

Do  you  see  that  tender  vine  binding  up  the  shattered 
tree  and  hiding  its  wounds?  That  is  Southern  woman 
clinging  closer  and  more  tenderly  to  father  and  husband 
when  the  storms  beat  upon  him,  comforting  as  only  such 
Christian  women  can  comfort;  smiling  only  as  such 
heroines  can  smile ;  with  "toil-beat  nerves,  and  care-worn 
eye,"  helping  only  as  such  women  can  help.  In  the 
schoolroom  and  behind  the  counter,  over  the  sewing  ma- 
chine and  the  cooking  stove,  in  garden  and  field,  every- 
where showing  the  gems  of  Southern  character  washed 
up  from  its  depths  by  the  ocean  of  Southern  woe. 

Let  the  last  symbol  on  the  monument  be  the  clasped 
s 


66  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONEEDERACY 

right  hands  of  the  Union,  These  Southern  women  of 
1861  were  the  daughters  of  the  great  American  Union, 
Their  fathers  under  the  leadership  of  Jefferson,  Madison 
and  Washington,  had  proposed  the  Union,  devised  the 
Union,  loved  the  Union,  and,  under  Clay  and  Calhoun 
and  Benton,  had  preserved  the  Union.  As  an  induce- 
ment for  union  between  the  original  States,  without 
which  the  Northern  States  would  not  come  into  it,  Vir- 
ginia, the  great  mother  of  the  Union,  gave  up  all  her 
splendid  territory  north  of  the  Ohio,  embracing  what  is 
now  Ohio,  Illinois,  Indiana,  Wisconsin,  and  Michigan, 
and  agreed  that  they  should  be  made  States  without 
slavery.  She  afterwards  gave  Kentucky.  North  Caro- 
lina gave  Tennessee,  and  Georgia  gave  Alabama  and  Mis- 
sissippi. Southern  influence  and  Southern  statesmanship 
made  the  Union  strong  at  home  and  respected  abroad  by 
the  war  of  1812,  which  was  gallantly  fought  by  the 
South  and  bitterly  opposed  by  New  England — opposed 
to  the  very  verge  of  secession  from  the  Union  in  the 
Hartford  convention.  The  Southern  States  had  shown 
their  devotion  to  the  Union  by  yielding  to  the  compro- 
mises on  the  tariff,  the  bounty,  and  the  territorial  ques- 
tions. The  South  demanded  no  tariff  tribute,  no  bounties 
and  no  internal  improvements  as  the  price  of  her  devo- 
tion to  the  Union.  She  loved  the  Union  for  the  Union's 
sake.  All  that  she  demanded  was  that  in  the  territory, 
while  it  was  territory,  belonging  to  the  government,  her 
sons,  with  their  families,  white  and  black,  should  have 
an  equal  share. 

John  C.  Calhoun  was  not  a  disunionist.  The  nullifica- 
tion ordinance  of  South  Carolina,  "the  Hotspur  of  the 
Union,"  was  not  secession.  It  was  the  protest  of  a 
sovereign  State  against  unconstitutional  Federal  taxa- 
tion levied  through  the  tariff  on  the  consumer,  not  for 
government  revenue,  but  for  the  benefit  of  the  manufac- 
turer. The  nation  heard  the  manly  voice  of  the  little 
State,  and  Calhoun  and  Clay  stood  side  by  side  in  the 
great  compromise  that  followed.  Calhoun  and  his 
people  loved  the  Union,  but  they  wanted  a  union  that  was 
a  union.    True  religion  is  that  which  is  laid  down  in  the 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONIfllDKRACY  67 

Bible,  not  theory  nor  sentiment.  True  political  union  is 
the  union  formed  by  the  Sovereign  States  and  expressed 
in  the  Constitution.  Constitutional  union  was  the  only 
true  union.  Everything  else  was  a  mere  sentiment  or  a 
sham.  History  will  yet  hold  that  the  secession  of  the 
Southern  States  in  1861  was  itself  a  union  movement. 
The  Northern  States  had  destroyed  the  old  union.  By 
their  numerous  nullification  acts  in  State  assemblies  they 
had  repudiated  the  legislative  branch  of  the  government; 
by  their  defiance  of  the  Supreme  Court  they  had  virtually 
abolished  the  judiciary,  the  second  branch;  and  in  i860, 
by  the  sectional  platform  of  the  dominant  party  and  the 
election  of  a  sectional  president,  they  had  denationalized 
the  executive  branch  of  the  government.  Where  was  the 
union?  Gone,  utterly  gone.  South  Carolina  only  cut 
herself  off  from  the  union-breakers  and  attached  herself 
to  such  States  as  clung  to  the  Constitution  and  Union  of 
the  fathers.  Secession  in  1861  meant  the  preservation 
of  the  union  of  1787.  Coercion  in  1861  was  rebellion 
against  the  Federal  compact  and  death  of  the  old  Unioi^ 
The  Star-Spangled  Banner  became  the  labarum  of  in- 
vasion, and  the  Southern  Cross  the  standard  of  all  the 
Union  that  was  left. 

The  Union  that  our  fathers  and  mothers  loved  lay 
buried  for  twenty-five  years.  From  March,  1861,  to 
March,  1885,  any  true  Southern  man  in  the  national  capi- 
tal found  himself  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  and  was 
looked  upon  as  a  political  Pariah  by  those  in  power, — an 
intruder  even  in  the  house  of  his  fathers.  Every  govern- 
ment office  all  over  the  land  in  the  hands  of  the  Northern 
States.  What  a  travesty  of  union!  The  North  a  dic- 
tator, the  South  a  satrapy.  The  Northern  man,  lord; 
the  Southern  man,  a  vassal. 

But,  thank  God,  the  resurrection  came ;  the  door-stone 
of  the  tomb  was  rolled  away  by  the  national  election  of 
Cleveland  in  1884.  "The  Southern  States  are  in  the 
Union,  and  they  shall  have  their  equal  rights,"  was  the 
slogan  of  the  triumphant  party.  Then  go  to  the  capital 
and  you  find  the  first  national  administration  since 
Buchanan — Bayard,  the  champion  of  the  South,  in  the 


68  WOM^N  OP  TH^  CONIfEjDilRACY 

first  place  in  the  Cabinet,  and  by  his  side  the  Confederate 
leaders,  Lamar  and  Garland.  About  the  first  act  of  the 
administration  was  to  appoint  General  Lawton,  the  quar- 
termaster-general of  the  Confederate  army,  to  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  embassies  in  Europe,  Curry  to  Spain 
and  other  Confederates  wherever  there  was  a  place  for 
them.  The  sons  of  our  Southern  mothers  were  no  longer 
under  the  ban.  Peace,  real  peace,  had  come.  The  Union, 
real  union,  was  herself  again. 

Again  in  1892  the  electoral  votes  of  the  Northern 
States  alone  were  sui^cient  to  make  Grover  Cleveland,  the 
great  pacificator,  twice  the  choice  of  the  solid  South, 
again  President  of  the  United  States.  Once  more  there 
is  a  national  Cabinet,  the  South  having  half  of  it,  with  a 
Confederate  colonel  in  command  of  the  navy,  another 
minister  to  France,  another  to  Mexico,  another  to  Guate- 
mala— Southern  men  at  Madrid  and  Constantinople; 
and  when  this  country  needs  a  man  to  represent  her  in 
the  crisis  in  Cuba  to  a  Virginia  Lee  is  given  the  con- 
spicuous honor. 

The  last  unjust  election  law  is  repealed;  the  last  taint 
taken  from  the  fair  name  of  Confederate  officers.  The 
North  has  extended  the  right  hand  of  union.  The  South 
has  grasped  it ;  and  withered  be  the  arm  that  would  tear 
those  hands  asunder. 

Image    of    the    Southern     Woman    Surmounting    the 
Monument 

High  above  these  hands,  artist,  place  the  crowning 
statue  of  the  Southern  woman.  Let  it  be  the  queenly 
form  of  the  proudest  of  the  proud  mothers  of  Southern 
chivalry.  Let  her  sweet,  calm  image  face  the  north, — • 
no  frown  on  her  brow, — no  scorn  on  her  lip.  Let  her 
happy,  hopeful  smile  tell  the  world  that  Southern  woman- 
hood felt  most  sadly  the  Union  broken,  and  hails  most 
joyfully  the  Union  restored. 

My  countrymen,  we  have  a  country!  In  the  name  of 
God,  our  mothers,  as  they  look  down  from  heaven,  be- 
seech you  to  preserve  it. 

The  art  of  sculpture  was  finished  in  ancient  Greece,  and 


woMKN  OP  the;  confi;de;racy  69 

the  statue  of  Venus  de  Medici  will  never  be  surpassed.  In 
it  the  artist  has  put  in  marble  the  perfect  form,  face, 
majesty  and  grace  of  woman.  The  ancients  in  their 
sensual  materialism  adored  beauty  in  form  and  feature 
and  many  moderns  worship  at  the  same  shrine.  The  Ger- 
man poet  Heine,  when  an  invalid  in  Paris,  had  himself 
carried  every  day  in  a  roller  chair  to  the  Tuilleries,  to 
gaze  upon  the  marble  beauty  of  Venus  de  Milo.  If  in 
our  age,  the  artist  ever  attempts  to  sculpture  the  true 
woman,  the  woman  with  soul,  the  Christian  Psyche,  with 
heart  as  perfect  as  her  face,  with  character  more  charming 
than  her  form,  the  modern  Praxitiles  will  take  for  his 
model  the  Southern  woman,  from  among  your  mothers 
and  grandmothers.  They  are  your  models  in  character 
now.  To  you  much  is  given;  of  you  will  much  be  re- 
quired. Study  your  mothers  and  may  Heaven  help  you 
to  learn  the  God-given  lesson. 

Young  men,  the  model  man,  Jesus  Christ,  the  diving 
Saviour  of  our  world,  asked  for  no  carved  stone,  no 
statue  to  his  memory.  He  wanted  no  marble  cathedral. 
He  demanded  living  monuments, — men  and  women  to  set 
forth  in  holy  lives  the  lessons  of  his  example.  From 
childhood  He  honored  his  mother,  nor  did  He  forget  her 
on  the  cross. 

With  something  of  his  exalted  spirit  your  mothers,  who 
have  gone  before  you,  demand  of  you  not  a  chiseled 
monument,  but  they  do  beseech  you  to  honor  them  in 
manly  life.  Hold  sacred  the  very  blood  they  gave  you. 
Lay  hold  of  their  lofty  principles;  drink  in  their  noble 
spirit.  Set  forth  their  glorious  patriotism,  and  you  will 
be  a  crown  to  them,  a  blessing  to  your  country,  and  an 
honor  to  your  God. 


CHAPTER  II 


THKIR  WORK 


INTRODUCTION  TO  WOMAn's  WORK 
[By  J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

Throughout  the  South  the  women  went  to  work  from 
the  first  drum-beat.  A  great  deal  of  it  was  done  privately, 
the  left  hand  itself  hardly  knowing  what  the  modest, 
humble  right  hand  was  doing.  In  nearly  every  neighbor- 
hood soldiers'  aid  societies,  or  relief  associations,  were 
organized  and  did  systematic  and  efficient  work  through- 
out the  four  years.  Supplies  of  every  kind  were  con- 
stantly gathered  and  forwarded  where  most  needed.  The 
old  men  and  women  did  an  immense  amount  of  work. 

In  all  the  railroad  towns,  hospitals  and  wayside  houses 
were  established  for  the  benefit  of  the  travelling  soldier. 
These  were  maintained  and  managed  almost  exclusively 
by  the  women.  They  prepared  as  best  they  could  such 
articles  as  pickles  and  preserves  and  other  delicacies  for 
the  use  of  the  hospitals.  They  sent  testaments  and  other 
good  books  and  good  preachers  to  the  army,  and  being 
nearly  all  women  of  practical  piety,  they  helped  greatly  to 
infuse  that  spirit  of  patriotism  which  gave  such  strength 
to  the  Confederate  army.  The  world  has  never  known 
an  army  in  which  there  were  so  many  earnest,  practical 
Christians  like  Jackson,  Cobb,  Lee,  Polk,  Price,  and 
Gordon  among  the  commanding  officers,  where  there 
were  so  many  ministers  of  the  gospel  of  good  standing 
who  were  fighting  soldiers,  and  so  many  men  in  ranks 
who  were  God-fearing  men.  The  world  has  never  known 
an  army  where  so  many  officers  and  soldiers  came  from 
homes  where  there  were  pious  wives,  mothers,  and  sisters. 
The  inspiration  of  the  knightly  hearts  of  the  Confederacy 
was  home  and  the  inspiration  of  a  pious  home  was  godly 


WOMEN  OF  THD  CONIfJlDERACY  7I 

woman.  The  world  will  never  know  how  effective  were 
the  prayers  and  letters  of  the  women  at  home  in  those 
great  religious  revivals  with  which  the  Confederate  army 
was  so  often  and  so  richly  blessed.  Thousands  of  men 
who  entered  the  army  wicked  men  went  home  or  to  their 
graves  genuine  Christians.  The  war  ended;  but  the 
good  woman's  work  never  ends.  Our  Confederate 
women  began  immediately  to  look  after  the  soldiers' 
orphans  and  the  soldiers'  graves.  In  all  directions  the 
Confederate  monuments  have  been  erected  mainly  by 
their  efforts.  Soldiers'  homes  have  been  established  and 
in  some  few  of  the  States  homes  provided  for  the  Con- 
federate widows.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  women  collected 
two-thirds  of  the  money  raised  for  all  these  objects.  It 
is  their  dead  they  are  honoring.  And  they  will  continue 
to  break  the  alabaster  box.    Let  them  alone. 


THE  SOUTHERN  WOMAN'S  SONG 
[Confederate  Scrap  Book.] 

Stitch,    stitch,    stitch. 
Little  needle,   swiftly  fly. 

Brightly  glitter  as  you  go; 
E;very  time  that  you  pass  by 

Warms  my  heart  with  pity's  glow. 
Dreams  of  comfort   that  will   cheer. 

Dreams  of  courage  you  will  bring, 
Through  winter's  cold,  the  volunteer. 

Smile  on  me  like  flowers  in  spring. 

Stitch,    stitch,    stitch. 
Swiftly,    little   needle,   fly, 

Through  this  flannel,  soft  and  warm; 
Though  with  cold  the  soldiers  sigh. 

This  will   sure   keep   out   the  storm. 
Set    the   buttons    close    and    tight, 

Out  to  shut  the  winter's  damp; 
There'll  be  none  to  fix  them  right 

In  the  soldier's  tented  camp. 

Stitch,    stitch,    stitch. 
Ah!     needle,   do  not  linger; 

Close  the  thread,  make  fine  the  knot; 
There'll  be  no  dainty  finger 

To   arrange   a   seam   forgot. 
Though  small  and  tiny  you  may  be, 

Do  all  that  you  are  able. 
A  mouse  a  lion  once  set  free, 

As  says  the  pretty  fable. 

Stitch,    stitch,    stitch. 
Swiftly,  little  needle,  glide. 

Thine's  a  pleasant  labor; 
To  clothe  the  soldier  be  thy  pride, 

While  he  wields  the  sabre. 


72  WOM^N  O^  TH]^  CONI^DDE^RACY 

Ours  are  tireless  hearts  and  hands; 

To  Southern  wives  and  mothers, 
All  who  join  our  warlike  bands 

Are  our  friends  and  brothers. 

Stitch,    stitch,    stitch, 
lyittle  needle,  swiftly  fly; 

From  morning  until  eve. 
As  the  moments  pass  thee  by. 

These  substantial  comforts  weave. 
Busy  thoughts  are  at  our  hearts — 

Thoughts  of  hopeful  cheer, 
As  we  toil,  till  day  departs. 

For  the  noble  volunteer. 

Quick,   quick,   quick. 
Swiftly,  little  needle,  go; 

For  our  homes'  most  pleasant  fires 
Ivet  a  loving  greeting  flow 

To  our  brothers  and  our  sires; 
We  have  tears  for  those  who  fall. 

Smiles  for  those  who  laugh  at  fears; 
Hope  and  sympathy  for  all — 

Every  noble  volunteer. 


The  lyADlES  OE  RICHMOND 

The  editor  of  the  Lynchburg  Republican,  writing  to  his 
paper  in  June,  1862,  says  : 

The  ladies  of  Richmond,  as  of  Lynchburg,  and  indeed 
of  the  whole  country,  are  making  for  themselves  a  fame 
which  will  live  in  all  future  history,  and  brilliantly  illumi- 
nate the  brightest  pages  of  the  Republic's  history. 

Discarding  all  false  ceremony  and  giving  full  vent  to 
those  feelings  and  sentiments  of  devotion  which  make  her 
the  noblest  part  of  God's  creation  and  the  fondest  object 
of  man's  existence,  the  ladies  of  this  city  from  all  ranks 
have  gone  into  the  hospitals  and  are  hourly  engaged  in 
ministering  to  the  wants  and  relieving  the  sufferings  of 
their  countrymen. 

Mothers  and  sisters  could  not  be  more  unremitting  in 
their  attention  to  their  own  blood  than  these  women  are 
to  those  whom  they  have  never  seen  before,  and  may 
never  see  again.  They  feed  them,  nurse  them,  and  by 
their  presence  and  sympathy  cheer  and  encourage  them. 
"Man's  inhumanity  to  man  makes  countless  millions 
mourn,"  but  woman's  sympathy  would  heal  every  wound 
and  make  glad  every  heart. 


wome;n  oif  th^  con^ddkracy  73 

THE  HOSPITAI.  AI^TDR  SEV^N  PINKS. 
[Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  13S-136.] 

On  this  evening,  as  a  kind  woman  bent  over  the  stal- 
wart figure  of  a  noble  Georgian,  and  washed  from  his 
hair  and  beard  the  stiffened  mud  of  the  Chickahominy, 
where  he  fell  from  a  wound  through  the  upper  portion  of 
the  right  lung,  and  then  gently  bathed  the  bleeding  gash 
left  by  the  Minie  ball,  as  he  groaned  and  feebly  opened 
his  eyes,  he  grasped  her  hand,  and  in  broken  whispers, 
faint  from  suffering,  gasping  for  breath,  "I  could-bear-all- 
this-for-myself-alone-but  my-wife  and  my-six  little- 
ones,"  (and  then  the  large  tears  rolled  down  his  weather- 
beaten  cheeks,)  and  overcome  he  could  only  add,  "Oh, 
God!  oh,  God!-how  will-they  endure  it?"  She  bent  her 
head  and  wept  in  sympathy.  The  tall  man's  frame  was 
shaking  with  agony.  She  placed  to  his  fevered  lips  a 
cooling  draught,  and  whispered :  "Think  of  yourself  just 
now ;  God  may  raise  you  up  to  them,  and  if  not,  He  wril 
provide  for  and  comfort  them."  He  feebly  grasped  her 
hand  once  more,  and  a  look  of  gratitude  stole  over  his 
manly  face,  and  he  whispered,  "God  bless  you !  God  bless 
you !    God  bless  you !  kind  stranger !" 


BURIAI,  01''  I^ATANE 


["The  next  squadron  moved  to  the  front  under  the  lamented  Captain 
L,atane,  making  a  most  brilliant  and  successful  charge  with  drawn  sabres  upon 
the  enemy's  picked  ground,  and  after  a  hotly-contested,  hand-to-hand  conflict 
put  him  to  flight,  but  not  until  the  gallant  captain  had  sealed  his  devotion  to 
his  native  soil  with  his  blood." — Official  Report  of  the  Pamunkey  Expedition, 
Gen.  J.  15.  B.   Stuart,  C.   S.  A.,  1862.] 

[From  a  private  letter.] 

Lieutenant  Latane  carried  his  brother's  dead  body  to 
Mrs.  Brockenbrough's  plantation  an  hour  or  two  after  his 
death.  On  this  sad  and  lonely  errand  he  met  a  party  of 
Yankees,  who  followed  him  to  Mrs,  B.'s  gate,  and  stop- 
ping there,  told  him  that  as  soon  as  he  had  placed  his 
brother's  body  in  friendly  hands  he  must  surrender  him- 
self prisoner.  =''  *  *  Mrs.  B.  sent  for  an  Episcopal 
clergyman  to  perform  the  funeral  ceremonies,  but  the 


74  woMDN  o^  the;  coni^^diiracy 

enemy  would  not  permit  him  to  pass.  Then,  with  a  few 
other  ladies,  a  fair-haired  little  girl,  her  apron  filled  with 
white  flowers,  and  a  few  faithful  slaves,  who  stood 
reverently  near,  a  pious  Virginia  matron  read  the  solemn 
and  beautiful  burial  service  over  the  cold,  still  form  of 
one  of  the  noblest  gentlemen  and  most  intrepid  officers  in 
the  Confederate  army.  She  watched  the  sods  heaped 
upon  the  coffin-lid,  then  sinking  on  her  knees,  in  sight  and 
hearing  of  the  foe,  she  committed  his  soul's  welfare  and 
the  stricken  hearts  he  had  left  behind  him  to  the  mercy  of 
the  "All-Father." 

"And   when   Virginia,   leaning   on   her   spear, 

Victrix  et  vidua,  the  conflict  done, 
Shall  raise  her  mailed  hand  to  wipe  the  tear 

That  starts   as   she    recalls    each   martyred   son, 
No  prouder  memory  her  breast  shall  sway. 
Than  thine,  our  early  lost,  lamented  I<atane!" 


MAKING  CI.OTHES  I'OR  TH^  SOIvDIE:rS 
[In  Our  Women  in  the  War,  pages  453-4S4-] 

Money  was  almost  as  unavailable  as  material  with  us 
for  a  time.  "Uncle  Sam's"  treasury  was  not  accessible  to 
"rebels."  Our  government  was  young,  and  Confederate 
bonds  and  money  yet  in  their  infancy.  We  could  do 
nothing  more  than  wait  developments,  and  try  to  meet 
emergencies  as  they  trooped  up  before  us.  In  the  mean- 
time, children  grew  apace.  Our  village  stores  were 
emptied  and  deserted.  Our  armies  in  the  field  became 
grand  realities.  All  resources  were  cut  off.  Our  govern- 
ment could  poorly  provide  food  and  clothing  and  ammu- 
nition for  its  armies.  Then  it  was  our  mothers'  wit  was 
tested  and  did  in  no  sort  disappoint  our  expectations. 
Spinning-wheels,  looms  and  dye-pots  were  soon  brought 
into  requisition.  Wool  of  home  production  was  espe- 
cially converted,  by  loving  hands,  into  warm  flannels  and 
heavy  garments,  with  soft  scarfs  and  snugly-fitted  leg- 
gings, to  shield  our  dear  boys  from  Virginia's  wintry 
blasts  and  fast-falling  snows.  Later  on,  when  the  wants 
and  privations  of  the  army  grew  more  pressing,  societies 


WOMi^N  01*  THE)  CONIf^DKRACY  75 

were  formed  to  provide  supplies  for  the  general  demand. 
Southern  homes  withheld  nothing  that  could  add  to  the 
soldiers'  comfort.  Every  available  fragment  of  material 
was  converted  into  some  kind  of  garment.  After  the 
stores  of  blankets  in  each  home  had  been  given,  carpets 
were  utilized  in  their  stead  and  portioned  out  to  the  suf- 
fering soldiers.  Wool  mattresses  were  ripped  open,  re- 
carded,  and  woven  into  coverings  and  clothing.  Bits  of 
new  woolen  fabrics,  left  from  former  garments,  were 
ravelled,  carded,  mixed  with  cotton  and  spun  and  knitted 
into  socks.  Old  and  worn  garments  were  carried  through 
the  same  process.  Even  rabbits'  fur  was  mixed  with 
cotton  and  silk,  and  appeared  again  in  the  form  of  neat 
and  comfortable  gloves.  Begging  committees  went  forth 
(and  be  it  truthfully  said,  the  writer  never  knew  of  a 
single  one  being  turned  away  empty)  to  gather  up  the 
offerings  from  mansion  and  hamlet,  which  were  soon  cut 
up,  packed,  and  forwarded  with  all  possible  speed  to  tfte 
soldiers. 

And  who  can  tell  what  pleasure  we  took  in  filling  boxes 
with  substantial  and  such  dainties  as  we  could  secure  for 
the  hospitals.  Old  men  and  little  boys  were  occupied  in 
winding  thread  and  holding  brooches,  and  even  knitting 
on  the  socks  when  the  mystery  of  "turning  the  heel"  had 
been  passed.  The  little  spinning-wheel,  turned  by  a 
treadle,  became  a  fascination  to  the  girls,  and  with  its 
busy  hum  was  mingled  oft  times  the  merry  strain  of 
patriotic  songs. 

"Our   wagon's   plenty  big  enough,  the   running  gear  is   good, 
'Tis  stiffened  with  cotton  round  the  sides  and  made  of  Southern  wood; 
Carolina  is  the  driver,  with  Georgia  by  her  side; 
Virginia'U   hold   the   flag  up   and   we'll   take  a   ride." 


the:  ingenuity  o^  southern  wome:n 

[Our  Women  in  the  War,  pages  454-45S-] 

During  all  that  time,  when  every  woman  vied  with  the 
other  in  working  for  the  soldiers,  there  were  needs  at 
home  too  urgent  to  be  disregarded.    These,  too,  had  to  be 


y6  W0M:^N  Olf  TH^  CONFIJDERACY 

met,  and  how  was  not  long  the  question.  For  those  very 
women  who  had  been  reared  in  ease  and  affluence  soon 
learned  practically  that  "necessity  is  the  mother  of  in- 
vention," and  the  story  of  their  ingenuity,  if  all  told, 
might  surprise  their  Northern  sisters,  who  always  re- 
garded them  as  inefficient,  pleasure-loving  members  of 
society.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  fault  of  their  in- 
stitutions and  rearing,  the  war  certainly  brought  out  the 
true  woman,  and  no  woman  of  any  age  or  nation  ever 
entered,  heart  and  soul,  more  enthusiastically  into  their 
country's  contest  than  those  who  now  mourn  the  "Lost 
Cause."  While  our  armies  were  victorious  in  the  field 
hope  lured  us  on.  We  bore  our  share  of  privations  cheer- 
fully and  gladly. 

We  replaced  our  worn  dresses  with  homespuns,  plan- 
ning and  devising  checks  and  plaids,  and  intermingling 
colors  with  the  skill  of  professional  "designers."  The 
samples  we  interchanged  were  homespuns  of  our  last 
weaving,  not  A.  T.  Stuart's  or  John  Wanamaker's 
sample  envelopes,  with  their  elaborate  display  of  rich  and 
costly  fabrics.  Our  mothers'  silk  stockings,  of  ante-bellum 
date,  were  ravelled  with  patience  and  transformed  into 
the  prettiest  of  neat-fitting  gloves.  The  writer  remembers 
never  to  have  been  more  pleased  than  she  was  by  the  pos- 
session of  a  trim  pair  of  boots  made  of  the  tanned  skins 
of  some  half-dozen  squirrels.  They  were  so  much  softer 
and  finer  than  the  ordinary  heavy  calf-skin  affairs  to  be 
bought  at  the  village  "shoe  shop,"  that  no  Northern 
maiden  was  ever  more  pleased  with  her  ten-dollar  boots. 
Our  hats,  made  of  palmetto  and  rye  straw,  were  becoming 
and  pretty  without  lace,  tips,  or  flowers.  Our  jackets 
were  made  of  the  fathers'  old-fashioned  cloaks,  in  vogue 
some  forty  years  agone — those  of  that  style  represented 
in  the  pictures  of  Mr.  Calhoun — doing  splendid  service  by 
supplying  all  the  girls  in  the  family  at  once.  We  even 
made  palmetto  jewelry  of  exquisite  designs,  intermingled 
with  our  hair,  that  we  might  keep  even  with  the  boys  who 
wore  "palmetto  cockades."  The  flowers  we  wore  were 
nature's  own  beautiful,  fragrant  blossoms,  sometimes, 
when  in  a  patriotic  mood,  nestled,  with  symbolic  cotton 


WOMIlN  01^  THE  CONIfEDE;RACY  'J'J 

balls.  For  onr  calico  dresses,  if  ever  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  one,  we  sometimes  paid  a  hundred  dollars,  and  for 
the  spool  of  cotton  that  made  it  from  ten  to  twenty 
dollars.  The  buttons  we  used  were  oftentimes  cut  from 
a  gourd  into  sizes  required  and  covered  with  cloth,  they 
having  the  advantage  of  pasteboard  because  they  were 
rounded.  On  children's  clothes  persimmon  seed  in  their 
natural  state,  with  two  holes  drilled  through  them,  were 
found  both  neat  and  durable.  In  short,  we  fastened  all 
our  garments  after  true  Confederate  style,  without  the  aid 
of  Madame  Demorest's  guide  book  or  Worth's  Parisian 
models,  and  suffered  from  none  of  Miss  Flora  McFlim- 
sey's  harassing  dilemmas. 


MRS.  LiiK  AND  The:  socks 

R.  E.  Lee,  in  his  recollections  of  his  father,  GeneraJ 
Lee,  says : 

"His  letters  to  my  mother  tell  how  much  his  men  were 
in  need.  My  mother  was  an  invalid  from  rheumatism, 
and  confined  to  a  roller  chair.  To  help  the  cause  with 
her  own  hands,  as  far  as  she  could,  she  was  constantly 
occupied  in  knitting  socks  for  the  soldiers,  and  induced 
all  around  her  to  do  the  same.  She  sent  them  directly  to 
my  father  and  he  always  acknowledged  them." 

It  was  well  known  in  the  army  what  great  pleasure  it 
gave  the  General  to  distribute  these  socks. 


FLITTING  OUT  A  SOLDIER 
[Mrs.  Roger  A.  Pryor's  Reminiscences  of  Peace  and  War,  pages  131-133.] 

When  I  returned  to  my  father's  home  in  Petersburg  I 
found  my  friends  possessed  with  an  intense  spirit  of 
patriotism.  The  First,  Second  and  Third  Virginia  were 
already  mustered  into  service;  my  husband  was  colonel 
of  the  Third  Virginia  Infantry,  The  men  were  to  be 
equipped  for  service  immediately.    All  of  "the  boys"  were 


yS  woMDN  o^  The;  coni^ddejracy 

going — the  three  Manys,  Will  Johnson,  Berry  Stainback, 
Ned  Graham ;  all  the  young,  dancing  set,  the  young  law- 
yers and  doctors — everybody,  in  short,  except  bank  presi- 
dents, druggists,  a  doctor  or  two  (over  age),  and  young 
boys  under  sixteen.  To  be  idle  was  torture.  We  women 
resolved  ourselves  into  a  sewing  society,  resting  not  on 
Sundays.  Sewing-machines  were  put  into  the  churches, 
which  became  depots  for  flannel,  muslin,  strong  linen,  and 
even  uniform  cloth.  When  the  hour  for  meeting  arrived, 
the  sewing  class  would  be  summoned  by  the  ringing  of 
the  church  bell.  My  dear  Agnes  was  visiting  in  Peters- 
burg, and  was  my  faithful  ally  in  all  my  work.  We  insti- 
tuted a  monster  sewing  class,  which  we  hugely  enjoyed, 
to  meet  daily  at  my  home  on  Market  street.  My  colonel 
was  to  be  fitted  out  as  never  was  colonel  before.  He  was 
ordered  to  Norfolk  with  his  regiment  to  protect  the  sea- 
board. I  was  proud  of  his  colonelship,  and  much  exer- 
cised because  he  had  no  shoulder-straps.  I  undertook  to 
embroider  them  myself.  We  had  not  then  decided  upon 
the  star  for  our  colonels'  insignia,  and  I  supposed  he 
would  wear  the  eagle  like  all  the  colonels  I  had  ever 
known.  We  embroidered  bullion  fringe,  cut  it  in  lengths, 
and  made  eagles,  probably  of  some  extinct  species,  for 
the  like  were  unknown  in  Audubon's  time,  and  have  not 
since  been  discovered.  However,  they  were  accepted,  ad- 
mired, and,  what  is  worse,  worn. 

The  Confederate  soldier  was  furnished  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war  with  a  gun,  pistol,  canteen,  tin  cup,  haversack, 
and  knapsack — no  inconsiderable  weight  to  be  borne  in  a 
march.  The  knapsack  contained  a  fatigue  jacket,  one  or 
two  blankets,  an  oil-cloth,  several  suits  of  underclothing, 
several  pairs  of  white  gloves,  collars,  neckties,  and  hand- 
kerchiefs. Each  mess  purchased  a  mess-chest  containing 
dishes,  bowls,  plates,  knives,  forks,  spoons,  cruets,  spice- 
boxes,  glasses,  etc.  Each  mess  also  owned  a  frying-pan, 
oven,  coffee-pot,  and  camp-kettle.  The  uniforms  were  of 
the  finest  cadet  cloth  and  gold  lace.  This  outfit — although 
not  comparable  to  that  of  the  Federal  soldier,  many -of 
whom  had  "Saratoga"  trunks  in  the  baggage  train — was 
considered  sumptuous  by  the  Confederate  volunteer.    As 


WOMEN  05*  the;  conf'Edi:racy  79 

if  these  were  not  enough,  we  taxed  our  ingenuity  to  add 
sundry  comforts,  weighing  Httle,  by  which  we  might  give 
a  touch  of  refinement  to  the  soldier's  knapsack. 

There  was  absohitely  nothing  which  a  man  might  pos- 
sibly use  that  we  did  not  make  for  them.  We  embroid- 
ered cases  for  razors,  for  soap  and  sponge,  and  cute 
morocco  affairs  for  needles,  thread,  and  courtplaster,  with 
a  little  pocket  lined  with  a  bank  note.  "How  perfectly 
ridiculous,"  do  you  say?  Nothing  is  ridiculous  that  helps 
anxious  women  to  bear  their  lot — cheats  them  with  the 
hope  that  they  are  doing  good. 


THE)  THIMBIvi:  BRIGADE 
[From  Dickison  and  His  Men,  pages   161-162.] 

With  prayerful  hearts,  the  devoted  women  of  Marion 
formed  themselves  into  societies  for  united  efforts  in  be- 
half of  our  gallant  defenders. 

At  Orange  Lake,  we  formed  a  Soldiers'  Relief  Associa- 
tion, playfully  called  the  "Thimble  Brigade;"  and,  with 
earnest  faith  in  the  blessing  of  God  upon  our  work,  we 
began  our  mission  of  love.  With  grateful  hearts  we 
labored  to  provide  comforts  for  the  brave  soldiers,  who 
around  their  campfires  were  keeping  watch  for  us.  The 
following  notice  will  be  read  by  our  sisterhood  with  min- 
gled emotions  of  pleasure  and  sadness : 

"In  this  number  of  the  Ocala  Home  Journal  will  be 
found  the  proceedings  of  a  meeting  of  the  ladies  of  the 
neighborhood  of  Orange  Lake,  held  for  the  purpose  of 
organizing  a  'Soldiers'  Friend'  Association.  They  have 
not  only  succeeded  in  perfecting  their  organization,  but 
have  already  accomplished  a  great  deal  for  the  benefit  of 
the  soldiers.  They  have  made  thirty  pairs  of  pants  for 
the  soldiers  at  Fernandina,  the  ladies  furnishing  the 
material  from  their  own  private  stores,  besides  knitting 
socks  and  making  other  garments.  The  manner  in  which 
they  have  commenced  this  patriotic  work  is,  indeed,  en- 


8o  WOMEN  OJ*  The:  conJ'EIdeIracy 

coiiraging  to  all  who  have  the  soldier's  welfare  at  heart, 
and  we  know  that  they  will  labor  as  long  as  the  necessities 
of  the  soldier  require  it." 


NOBI^i:  WOMI^N  Olf  RICHMOND 
[In   A   Rebel's   Recollections,   pages   66-69.] 

In  Richmond,  when  the  hospitals  were  filled  with 
wounded  men  brought  in  from  the  seven  days'  fighting 
with  McClellan,  and  the  surgeons  found  it  impossible  to 
dress  half  the  wounds,  a  band  was  formed,  consisting  of 
nearly  all  the  married  women  of  the  city,  who  took  upon 
themselves  the  duty  of  going  to  the  hospitals  and  dressing 
wounds  from  morning  till  night;  and  they  persisted  in 
their  painful  duty  until  every  man  was  cared  for,  saving 
hundreds  of  lives,  as  the  surgeons  unanimously  testified. 
When  nitre  was  found  to  be  growing  scarce,  and  the 
supply  of  gunpowder  was  consequently  about  to  give  out, 
women  all  over  the  land  dug  up  the  earth  in  their  smoke- 
houses and  tobacco  barns,  and  with  their  own  hands  faith- 
fully extracted  the  desired  salt,  for  use  in  the  government 
laboratories. 

Many  of  them  denied  themselves  not  only  delicacies, 
but  substantial  food  also,  when,  by  enduring  semi-starva- 
tion, they  could  add  to  the  stock  of  food  at  the  command 
of  the  subsistence  officers.  I  myself  knew  more  than  one 
houseful  of  women,  who,  from  the  moment  that  food 
began  to  grow  scarce,  refused  to  eat  meat  or  drink  coffee, 
living  thenceforth  only  upon  vegetables  of  a  speedily  per- 
ishable sort,  in  order  that  they  might  leave  the  more  for 
the  soldiers  in  the  field.  When  a  friend  remonstrated 
with  one  of  them,  on  the  ground  that  her  health,  already 
frail,  was  breaking  down  utterly  for  want  of  proper  diet, 
she  replied,  in  a  quiet,  determined  way,  "I  know  that  very 
well ;  but  it  is  little  that  I  can  do,  and  I  must  do  that  little 
at  any  cost.  My  health  and  life  are  worth  less  than  thOse 
of  my  brothers,  and  if  they  give  theirs  to  the  cause,  why 
should  not  I  do  the  same?     I  would  starve  to  death 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  8 1 

cheerfully  if  I  could  feed  one  soldier  more  by  doing  so, 
but  the  things  I  eat  can't  be  sent  to  camp.  I  think  it  a  sin 
to  eat  anything  that  can  be  used  for  rations."  And  she 
meant  what  she  said,  too,  as  a  little  mound  in  the  church- 
yard testifies. 

Every  Confederate  remembers  gratefully  the  reception 
given  him  when  he  went  into  any  house  where  these 
women  were.  Whoever  he  might  be,  and  whatever  his 
plight,  if  he  wore  the  gray,  he  was  received,  not  as  a 
beggar  or  tramp,  not  even  as  a  stranger,  but  as  a  son  of 
the  house,  for  whom  it  held  nothing  too  good,  and  whose 
comfort  was  the  one  care  of  all  its  inmates,  even  though 
their  own  must  be  sacrificed  in  securing  it.  When  the 
hospitals  were  crowded,  the  people  earnestly  besought  per- 
mission to  take  the  men  to  their  houses  and  to  care  for 
them  there,  and  for  many  months  almost  every  house 
within  a  radius  of  a  hundred  miles  of  Richmond  held  one 
or  more  wounded  men  as  especially  honored  guests. 

"God  bless  these  Virginia  women !"  said  a  general  of- 
ficer from  one  of  the  cotton  States,  one  day;  "they're 
worth  a  regiment  apiece."  And  he  spoke  the  thought  of 
the  army,  except  that  their  blessing  covered  the  whole 
country  as  well  as  Virginia. 


EROM    MATOACA    GAY'S   ARTICEES   IN    THE    PHIEADEEPHIA 

TIMES 

In  a  diary  kept  at  the  time  by  an  official  in  the  War 
Department  I  find  find  this  entry : 

May  10,  1861. — The  ladies  are  sewing  everywhere,  and 
are  full  of  ardor.  Love  affairs  are  plentiful,  but  the  ladies 
are  postponing  all  engagements  till  their  lovers  have 
fought  the  Yankees.  Their  influence  is  very  great.  Day 
after  day  they  go  in  crowds  to  the  fair  grounds,  where  the 
First  South  Carolina  Volunteers  are  encamped,  shower- 
ing upon  them  smiles  and  every  delicacy  which  the  city 
can  afford.  They  wine  them  and  dine  them,  and  they 
6 


82  WOMEN  O?  THD  CONE^DDKRACY 

deserve  it,  for  they  are  just  from  the  taking  of  Sumter, 
and  have  won  historic  distinction.  I  was  presented  to 
several  very  distinguished  looking  young  men,  all  of  them 
privates,  and  was  told  by  their  captain  that  many  of  them 
were  worth  from  a  hundred  thousand  to  half  a  million. 
These  are  the  men  the  Tribime  thought  would  all  of  them 
want  to  be  captains ;  but  that  is  only  one  of  the  hallucina- 
tions under  which  the  North  is  now  laboring. 


The:  women  oe  Richmond 

[By  Phoebe  Y.  Pember,  in  Hospital  Life.] 

But  of  what  importance  was  the  fact  that  I  was  home- 
less, houseless  and  moneyless,  in  Richmond,  the  heart  of 
Virginia?  Who  ever  wanted  for  aught  that  kind  hearts, 
generous  hands  or  noble  hospitality  could  supply,  that  it 
was  not  here  offered  without  even  the  shadow  of  a  patron- 
age that  could  have  made  it  distasteful?  What  women 
were  ever  so  refined  in  feeling  and  so  unaffected  in  man- 
ner ;  so  willing  to  share  all  that  wealth  gives,  and  so  little 
infected  with  the  pride  of  purse  which  bestows  that 
power?  It  was  difficult  to  hide  one's  needs  from  theni; 
they  found  them  out  and  ministered  to  them  with  their 
quiet  simplicity  and  the  innate  nobility  which  gave  to 
their  generosity  the  coloring  of  a  favor  received,  not 
conferred. 

Would  that  I  could  do  more  than  thank  the  dear  friends 
who  made  my  life  for  four  years  so  happy  and  con- 
tented ;  who  never  made  me  feel  by  word  or  act  that  my 
self-imposed  occupation  was  otherwise  than  one  which 
would  ennoble  any  woman.  If  ever  any  aid  was  given 
through  my  own  exertions,  or  any  labor  rendered  effective 
by  me  for  the  good  of  the  South — if  any  sick  soldier  ever 
benefited  by  my  happy  face  or  pleasant  smiles  at  his  bed- 
side, or  death  was  ever  soothed  by  gentle  words  of  hope 
and  tender  care — such  results  were  only  owing  to  the 
cheering  encouragement  I  received  from  them. 


WOMDN  Olf  THB  CONIf^DllRACY  83 

TWO  GEORGIA  HEROINES 
[Mary  L.  Jewett,  Corresponding  Secretary  Clement  Evans  Chapter,  U.   D.   C] 

"To  such  women  as  these  should  a  shaft  of  precious 
stone  be  erected." 

'Twas  thus  an  old  soldier  spoke  of  the  wife  of  Judge 
Alexander  Herrington,  of  Dougherty  County,  Georgia, 
many  years  ago,  when  the  heroism  of  the  Southern 
women  was  mentioned.  She  was  president  of  the  ladies' 
relief  association  during  the  war,  and  as  such  had  thirty 
machines  brought  to  her  home  and  the  neighbors  gathered 
together  and  made  leggings  and  clothing  for  "our  boys," 
as  they  were  called.  Many  and  many  days  did  she  work 
with  bleeding  hands,  caused  by  the  constant  use  of  the 
shears,  for  with  her  own  hands  she  did  the  cutting  for  the 
others  to  stitch.  This  was  a  work  that  is  far  beyond  the 
understanding  of  the  present  day,  for  she  had  never 
known  a  day's  toil,  being  the  wife  of  a  wealthy  planter 
and  slave  owner.  Not  only  did  she  and  Judge  Herring- 
ton  give  money,  cattle,  cotton,  and  slaves  to  be  used  in  the 
erecting  of  breastworks,  but  he  being  too  old,  and  their 
only  son  being  a  mere  child,  they  bravely  sent  two  of  their 
daughters  to  the  field  as  army  nurses,  one  of  which  served 
through  the  entire  war.  After  the  war,  with  slaves  and 
money  gone,  her  husband  died,  and  it  was  then  that  she 
and  her  children  suffered  through  the  days  of  reconstruc- 
tion, with  never  a  murmur  from  her  lips  for  the  things 
she  had  given  up  and  lost. 


THE  SEVEN  days'  battle 
[Mrs.  R.  A.  Pryor's  Reminiscences.] 

All  the  afternoon  the  dreadful  guns  shook  the  earth  and 
thrilled  our  souls  with  horror.  I  shut  myself  in  my 
darkened  room.  At  twilight  I  had  a  note  from  Governor 
Letcher,  telling  me  a  fierce  battle  was  raging,  and  inviting 
me  to  come  to  the  governor's  mansion.  From  the  roof 
one  might  see  the  flash  of  musket  and  artillery. 

No;    I  did  not  wish  to  see  the  infernal  fires.     I  pre- 


84  wome;n  o^  the;  coni^kdiiracy 

ferred  to  watch  and  wait  alone  in  my  room.  And  so  the 
night  wore  on  and  I  waited  and  watched.  Before  the 
dawn  a  hurried  footstep  brought  a  message  from  the 
battlefield  to  my  door : 

"The  general,  madame,  is  safe  and  well.  Colonel  Scott 
has  been  killed.  The  general  has  placed  a  guard  around 
his  body,  and  he  will  be  sent  here  early  to-morrow.  The 
general  bids  me  say  he  will  not  return.  The  fight  will  be 
renewed,  and  will  continue  until  the  enemy  is  driven 
away." 

My  resolution  was  taken.  My  children  were  safe  with 
their  grandmother.  I  would  write.  I  would  ask  that 
every  particle  of  my  household  linen,  except  a  change, 
should  be  rolled  into  bandages,  all  my  fine  linen  be  sent 
to  me  for  compresses,  and  all  forwarded  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. I  would  enter  the  new  hospital  which  had  been  im- 
provised in  Kent  &  Paine' s  warehouse,  and  would  remain 
there  as  a  nurse  as  long  as  the  armies  were  fighting 
around  Richmond. 

But  the  courier  was  passing  on  his  rounds  with  news  to 
others.  Presently  Fanny  Pbindexter,  in  tears,  knocked 
at  my  door. 

"She  is  bearing  it  like  a  brave.  Christian  woman." 

"She?    Who?    Tell  me  quick." 

"Mrs.  Scott.  I  had  to  tell  her.  She  simply  said,  'I 
shall  see  him  once  more.'  The  general  wrote  to  her  from 
the  battlefield  and  told  her  how  nobly  her  husband  died, 
leading  his  men  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  and  how  he  had 
helped  to  save  the  city." 

Alas !  that  the  city  should  have  needed  saving.  What 
had  Mrs.  Scott  and  her  children  done?  Why  should  they 
suffer  ?    Who  was  to  blame  for  it  all  ? 

Kent  &  Paine's  warehouse  was  a  large,  airy  building, 
which  had,  I  understood,  been  offered  by  the  proprietors 
for  a  hospital  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Seven  Pines. 
McClellan's  advance  upon  Richmond  had  heavily  taxed 
the  capacity  of  the  hospitals  already  established. 

When  I  reached  the  warehouse,  early  on  the  morning 
after  the  fight  at  Mechanicsville,  I  found  cots  on  the 
lower  floor  already  occupied,  and  other  cots  in  process  of 


WOMKN  Olf  THS  CONI^IlDERACY  85 

preparation.  An  aisle  between  the  rows  of  narrow  beds 
stretched  to  the  rear  of  the  building.  Broad  stairs  led  to 
a  story  above,  where  other  cots  were  being  laid. 

The  volunteer  matron  was  a  beautiful  woman,  Mrs. 
Wilson.  When  I  was  presented  to  her  as  a  candidate  for 
admission,  her  serene  eyes  rested  doubtfully  upon  me  for 
a  moment.    She  hesitated.    Finally  she  said : 

"The  work  is  very  exacting.  There  are  so  few  of  us 
that  our  nurses  must  do  anything  and  everything — make 
beds,  wait  upon  anybody,  and  often  a  half  a  dozen  at  a 
time." 

"I  will  engage  to  do  all  that,"  I  declared,  and  she  per- 
mitted me  to  go  to  a  desk  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room 
and  enter  my  name. 

As  I  passed  by  the  rows  of  occupied  cots,  I  saw  a  nurse 
kneeling  beside  one  of  them,  holding  a  pan  for  a  surgeon. 
The  red  stump  of  an  amputated  arm  was  held  over  it. 
The  next  thing  I  knew  I  was  myself  lying  on  a  cot,  and  a 
spray  of  cold  water  was  falling  over  my  face.  I  had 
fainted.  Opening  my  eyes,  I  found  the  matron  standing 
beside  me. 

"You  see  it  is  as  I  thought.  You  are  unfit  for  this 
work.    One  of  the  nurses  will  conduct  you  home." 

The  nurse's  assistance  was  declined,  however.  I  had 
given  trouble  enough  for  one  day,  and  had  only  inter- 
rupted those  who  were  really  worth  something.  A  night's 
vigil  had  been  poor  preparation  for  hospital  work.  I  re- 
solved I  would  conquer  my  culpable  weakness.  It  was  all 
very  well, — these  heroics  in  which  I  indulged,  these 
paroxysms  of  patriotism,  this  adoration  of  the  defenders 
of  my  fireside.  The  defender  in  the  field  had  naught  to 
hope  from  me  in  case  he  should  be  wounded  in  my  de- 
fence. 

I  took  myself  well  in  hand.  Why  had  I  fainted?  I 
thought  it  was  because  of  the  sickening,  dead  odor  in  the 
hospital,  mingled  with  that  of  acids  and  disinfectants.  Of 
course,  this  would  always  be  there — and  worse,  as 
wounded  men  filled  the  rooms.  I  provided  myself  with 
sal  volatile  and  spirits  of  camphor, — we  wore  pockets  in 
our  gowns  in  those  days, — and  thus  armed  I  presented 


86  WOMEN  01^  The:  coni^eidejracy 

myself  again  to  Mrs.  Wilson.  She  was  as  kind  as  she 
was  refined  and  intelligent.  "I  will  give  you  a  place  near 
the  door,"  she  said,  "and  yon  must  run  out  into  the  air 
at  the  first  hint  of  faintness.  You  will  get  over  it,  see  if 
you  don't." 

Ambulances  began  to  come  in  and  unload  at  the  door. 
I  soon  had  occupation  enough,  and  a  few  drops  of  cam- 
phor on  my  handkerchief  tided  me  over  the  worst.  The 
wounded  men  crowded  in  and  sat  patiently  waiting  their 
turn.  One  fine  little  fellow  of  fifteen  unrolled  a  handker- 
chief from  his  wrist  to  show  me  his  wound.  "There's  a 
bullet  in  there,"  he  said  proudly.  "I  am  going  to  have  it 
cut  out,  and  then  go  right  back  to  the  fight.  Isn't  it  lucky 
it's  my  left  hand  ?" 

As  the  day  wore  on  I  became  more  and  more  absorbed 
in  my  work.  I  had,  too,  the  stimulus  of  a  reproof  from 
Miss  Deborah  Couch,  a  brisk,  efficient,  middle-aged  lady, 
who  asked  no  quarter  and  gave  none.  She  was  standing 
beside  me  a  moment,  with  a  bright  tin  pan  filled  with 
pure  water,  into  which  I  foolishly  dipped  a  finger  to  see 
if  it  were  warm,  to  learn  if  I  would  be  expected  to  provide 
warm  water  when  I  should  be  called  upon  to  assist  the 
surgeon. 

"This  water,  madame,  was  prepared  for  a  raw  wound," 
said  Miss  Deborah,  sternly.  "I  must  now  make  the  sur- 
geon wait  until  I  get  more." 

Miss  Deborah,  in  advance  of  her  time,  was  a  germ 
theorist.    My  touch  evidently  was  contaminating. 

As  she  charged  down  the  aisle,  with  a  pan  of  water  in 
her  hand,  everybody  made  way.  She  had  known  of  my 
"fine-lady  faintness,"  as  she  termed  it,  and  I  could  see 
she  despised  me  for  it.  She  had  volunteered,  as  all  the 
nurses  had,  and  she  meant  business.  She  had  no  patience 
with  nonsense,  and  truly  she  was  worth  more  than  all  the 
rest  of  us. 

"Where  can  I  get  a  little  ice?"  I  one  day  ventured  of 
Miss  Deborah. 

"Find  it,"  she  rejoined,  as  she  rapidly  passed  on;  but 
find  it  I  never  did.  Ice  was  an  unknown  luxury  until 
brought  to  us  later  from  private  houses. 


WOM^N  OF*  The;  cone'kdeIracy  87 

But  I  found  myself  thoroughly  reinstated — with  sur- 
geons, matrons  and  Miss  Deborah — when  I  appeared  a 
few  days  later,  accompanied  by  a  man  bearing  a  basket  of 
clean,  well-rolled  bandages,  with  promise  of  more  to 
come.  The  Petersburg  women  had  gone  to  work  with  a 
will  upon  my  table-cloths,  sheets,  and  dimity  counter- 
panes— and  even  the  chintz  furniture  covers.  My  spring- 
like green  and  white  chintz  bandages  appeared  on  many 
a  manly  arm  and  leg.  My  fine  linen  underwear  and  nap- 
kins were  cut,  by  the  sewing  circle  at  the  Spotswood,  ac- 
cording to  the  surgeons'  directions,  into  two  lengths  two 
inches  wide,  then  folded  two  inches,  doubling  back  and 
forth  in  a  smaller  fold  each  time,  until  they  formed 
pointed  wedges  or  compresses. 

Such  was  the  sudden  and  overwhelming  demand  for 
such  things  that  but  for  my  own  and  similar  donations 
of  household  linen  the  wounded  men  would  have  suf- 
fered. The  war  had  come  upon  us  suddenly.  Many  o^ 
our  ports  were  already  closed  and  we  had  no  stores  laid 
up  for  such  an  emergency. 

The  bloody  battle  of  Gaines'  Mill  soon  followed.  Then 
Frazier's  farm,  within  the  week,  and  at  once  the  hospital 
was  filled  to  overflowing.  Every  night  a  courier  brought 
me  tidings  of  my  husband.  When  I  saw  him  at  the  door 
my  heart  would  die  within  me.  One  morning  John  came 
in  for  certain  supplies.  After  being  reassured  as  to  his 
master's  safety,  I  asked,  "Did  he  have  a  comfortable 
night,  John  ?" 

"He  sholy  did.  Marse  Roger  sart'nly  was  comfortable 
las'  night.    He  slep'  on  de  field  'twixt  two  daid  horses." 

The  women  who  worked  in  Kent  &  Paine's  hospital 
never  seemed  to  weary.  After  a  while  the  wise  matron 
assigned  us  hours,  and  we  went  on  duty  with  the  regu- 
larity of  trained  nurses.  My  hours  were  from  7  to  7 
during  the  day,  with  the  promise  of  night  service  should 
I  be  needed.  Efficient,  kindly  colored  women  assisted  us. 
Their  motherly  manner  soothed  the  prostrate  soldier, 
whom  they  always  addressed  as  "son." 

Many  fine  young  fellows  lost  their  lives  for  want  of 
prompt  attention.    They  never  murmured.    They  would 


88  WOMEN  0^  the;  con:pi;de;racy 

give  way  to  those  who  seemed  to  be  more  seriously 
wounded  than  themselves,  and  the  latter  would  recover, 
while  from  the  slighter  wounds  gangrene  would  super- 
vene from  delay.  Very  few  men  ever  walked  away  from 
that  hospital.  They  died,  or  friends  found  quarters  for 
them  in  Richmond.  None  complained.  Unless  a  poor 
man  grew  delirious,  he  never  groaned.  There  was  an 
atmosphere  of  gentle  kindness ;  a  suppression  of  emotion 
for  the  sake  of  others. 

Every  morning  the  Richmond  ladies  brought  for  our 
patients  such  luxuries  as  could  be  procured  in  that  scarce 
time.  The  city  was  in  peril,  and  distant  farmers  feared 
to  bring  in  their  fruits  and  vegetables.  One  day  a  patient- 
looking,  middle-aged  man  said  to  me,  "What  would  I  not 
give  for  a  bowl  of  chicken  broth  like  my  mother  used  to 
give  me  when  I  was  a  sick  boy?"  I  perceived  one  of  the 
angelic  matrons  of  Richmond  at  a  distance,  stooping  over 
the  cots,  and  found  my  way  to  her  and  said,  "Dear  Mrs. 
Maben,  have  you  a  chicken?  And  could  you  send  some 
broth  to  No.  39?"  She  promised,  and  I  returned  with 
her  promise  to  the  poor,  wounded  fellow.  He  shook  his 
head.    "To-morrow  will  be  too  late,"  he  said. 

I  had  forgotten  the  circumstance  next  day,  but  at  noon 
I  happened  to  look  toward  cot  No.  39,  and  there  was 
Mrs.  Maben  herself.  She  had  brought  the  chicken  broth 
in  a  pretty  china  bowl,  with  napkin  and  silver  spoon,  and 
was  feeding  my  doubting  Thomas,  to  his  great  satisfac- 
tion. 

It  was  at  this  hospital,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  that  the 
little  story  originated,  which  was  deemed  good  enough  to 
be  claimed  by  other  hospitals,  of  the  young  girl  who  ap- 
proached a  sick  man  with  a  pan  of  water  in  her  hand  and 
a  towel  over  her  arm. 

"Mayn't  I  wash  your  face?"  said  the  girl,  timidly.     ' 

"Well,  lady,  you  may  if  you  want  to,"  said  the  man, 
wearily.  "It  has  been  washed  fourteen  times  this  morn- 
ing.   It  can  stand  another  time,  I  reckon." 

I  discovered  that  I  had  not  succeeded,  despite  many  ef- 
forts, in  winning  Miss  Deborah.  I  learned  that  she  was 
affronted  because  I  had  not  shared  my  offerings  of  jelly 


WOMEN  O?  THI:  confederacy  89 

and  fruit  with  her,  for  her  special  patients.  Whenever  I 
ventured  to  ask  a  loan  from  her,  of  a  pan  or  a  glass  of 
water,  or  the  little  things  of  which  we  never  had  enough, 
she  would  reply,  "I  must  keep  them  for  the  nurses  who 
understand  reciprocity.  Reciprocity  is  the  rule  some  per- 
sons never  seem  to  comprehend."  When  this  was  ham- 
mered into  my  slow  perception,  I  rose  to  the  occasion.  I 
turned  over  the  entire  contents  of  a  basket  the  landlord 
of  the  Spotswood  had  given  me  to  Miss  Deborah,  and  she 
made  my  path  straight  before  me  ever  afterward. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  the  matron  had  promoted  me. 
Instead  of  carving  the  fat  bacon,  to  be  served  with  corn 
bread,  for  the  hospital  dinner,  or  standing  between  two 
rough  men  to  keep  away  the  flies,  or  fetching  water,  or 
spreading  sheets  on  cots,  I  was  assigned  to  regular  duty 
with  one  patient. 

The  first  of  these  proved  to  be  a  young  Colonel  Cop- 
pens,  of  my  husband's  brigade.  I  could  comfort  him  very 
little,  for  he  was  wounded  past  recovery.  I  spoke  little 
French,  and  could  only  try  to  keep  him,  as  far  as  possible, 
from  annoyance.  To  my  great  relief,  place  was  found  for 
him  in  a  private  family.  There  he  soon  died — the  gallant 
fellow  I  had  admired  on  his  horse  a  few  months  before. 

Then  I  was  placed  beside  the  cot  of  Mr.  (or  Captain) 
Boyd,  of  Mecklenburg,  and  was  admonished  by  the 
matron  not  to  leave  him  alone.  He  was  the  most  patient 
sufferer  in  the  world — gentle,  courteous,  always  consid- 
erate, never  complaining. 

"Are  you  in  pain.  Captain  ?" 

"No,  no,"  he  would  say  gently. 

One  day  when  I  returned  from  my  "rest,"  I  found  the 
matron  sitting  beside  him. 

She  motioned  me  to  take  her  place,  and  then  added, 
"No,  no ;   I  will  not  leave  him." 

The  captain's  eyes  were  closed,  and  he  sighed  wearily 
at  intervals.  Presently  he  whispered  slowly:  "There 
everlasting  spring  abides;"  then  sighed,  and  seemed  to 
sleep  for  a  moment. 

The  matron  felt  his  pulse  and  raised  a  warning  hand. 
The  sick  man's  whisper  went  on:  "Bright  fields  beyond 


90  WOMBN  OF*  Tl-Ii:  CONI^KDKRACY 

the  swelling  flood,  Stand  dressed  in  living  green;"  and 
in  a  moment  more  the  Christian  soldier  had  crossed  the 
river  and  lain  down  to  rest  under  the  trees. 

Each  of  the  battles  of  those  seven  days  brought  a  har- 
vest of  wounded  to  our  hospital.  I  used  to  veil  myself 
closely  as  I  walked  to  and  from  my  hotel,  that  I  might 
shut  out  the  dreadful  sights  in  the  streets — the  squads  of 
prisoners,  and  worst  of  all,  the  open  wagons  in  which  the 
dead  were  piled.  Once  I  did  see  one  of  these  dreadful 
wagons.  In  it  a  stiff  arm  was  raised,  and  shook  as  it  was 
driven  down  the  street,  as  though  the  dead  owner  ap- 
pealed to  Heaven  for  vengeance — a  horrible  sight,  never 
to  be  forgotten. 

After  one  of  the  bloody  battles — I  know  not  if  it  was 
Gaines'  Mill  or  Frazier's  Farm  or  Malvern  Hill — A  splen- 
did young  officer,  Colonel  Brokenborough,  was  taken  to 
our  hospital,  shot  almost  to  pieces.  He  was  borne  up  the 
stairs  and  placed  in  a  cot — his  broken  limbs  in  supports 
swinging  from  the  ceiling.  The  wife  of  General  Mahone 
and  I  were  permitted  to  assist  in  nursing  him,  A  young 
soldier  from  the  camp  was  detailed  to  help  us,  and  a 
clergyman  was  in  constant  attendance,  coming  at  night 
that  we  might  have  rest.  Our  patient  held  a  court  in  his 
corner  of  the  hospital.  Such  a  dear,  gallant,  cheery  fel- 
low, handsome,  and  with  a  grand  air  even  as  he  lay  pros- 
trate. Nobody  ever  heard  him  complain.  He  would  wel- 
come us  in  the  morning  with  the  brightest  smile.  His 
aid  said,  "He  watches  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  calls  up 
that  look  for  your  benefit," 

"Oh,"  he  said  one  day,  "you  can't  guess  what's  going 
to  happen.  Some  ladies  have  been  here  and  left  all  these 
roses,  and  cologne,  and  such;  and  somebody  has  sent 
champagne.    We  are  going  to  have  a  party," 

Ah !  but  we  knew  he  was  very  ill.  We  were  bidden  to 
watch  him  every  minute  and  not  be  deceived  by  his  own 
spirits,  Mrs.  Mahone  spent  her  life  hunting  for  ice.  My 
constant  care  was  to  keep  his  canteen — to  which  he  clung 
with  affection — filled  with  fresh  water  from  a  spring  not 
far  away,  and  I  learned  to  give  it  to  him  so  well  that  I 


woM^N  01^  The;  conf'e:de:racy  91 

allowed  no  one  to  lift  his  head  for  his  drink  during  my 
hours. 

One  day,  when  we  were  alone,  I  was  fanning  him,  and 
thought  he  was  asleep.  He  said  gravely,  "Mrs.  Pryor, 
beyond  that  curtain  they  hung  up  yesterday,  poor  young 
Mitchell  is  lying.  They  don't  know.  But  I  heard  when 
they  brought  him  in.  As  I  lie  here  I  listen  to  his  breath- 
ing. I  haven't  heard  it  now  for  some  time.  Would  you 
mind  seeing  if  he  is  all  right?" 

I  passed  behind  the  curtain.  The  young  soldier  was 
dead.  His  wide-open  eyes  seemed  to  meet  mine  in  mute 
appeal.  I  had  never  seen  or  touched  a  dead  man,  but  I 
laid  my  hands  upon  his  eyelids  and  closed  them.  I  was 
standing  thus  when  his  nurse,  a  young  volunteer  like 
myself,  came  to  me. 

"I  couldn't  do  that,"  she  said.  "I  went  for  the  doctor. 
I'm  so  glad  you  could  do  it." 

When  I  returned  Colonel  Brokenborough  asked  no 
questions  and  I  knew  that  his  keen  senses  had  already  in- 
structed him. 

To  be  cheerful  and  uncomplaining  was  the  unwritten 
law  of  our  hospital.  No  bad  news  was  ever  mentioned; 
no  foreboding  or  anxiety.  Mrs.  Mahone  was  one  day 
standing  beside  Colonel  Brokenborough  when  a  messen- 
ger from  the  front  suddenly  announced  that  General 
Mahone  had  received  a  flesh  wound.  Commanding  her- 
self instantly,  she  exclaimed  merrily :  "Flesh  wound. 
Now  you  all  know  that  is  just  impossible." 

The  general  had  no  flesh.  He  was  thin  and  attenuated 
as  he  was  brave. 

As  Colonel  Brokenborough  grew  weaker,  I  felt  self- 
reproach  that  no  one  had  offered  to  write  letters  for  him. 
His  friend  the  clergyman  had  said  to  me :  "That  poor 
boy  is  engaged  to  a  lovely  young  girl.  I  wonder  what  is 
best?  Would  it  grieve  him  to  speak  of  her.  You  ladies 
have  so  much  tact;  you  might  bear  it  in  mind.  An  op- 
portunity might  offer  for  you  to  discover  how  he  feels 
about  it." 

The  next  time  I  was  alone  with  him  I  ventured :  "Now, 
Colonel,  one  mustn't  forget  absent  friends,  you  know, 


92  WOME^N  OP  THp  CONI^DDllRACY 

even  if  fair  ladies  do  bring  perfumes  and  roses  and  what 
not.  I  have  some  ink  and  paper  here.  Shall  I  write  a 
letter  for  you?    Tell  me  what  to  say." 

He  turned  his  head  and  with  a  half-amused  smile  of 
perfect  intelligence  looked  at  me  for  a  long  time.  Then 
an  upward  look  of  infinite  tenderness ;  but  the  message 
was  never  sent — never  needed  from  a  true  heart  like  this. 

One  night  I  was  awakened  from  my  sleep  by  a  knock 
at  my  door,  and  a  summons  to  "come  to  Colonel  Broken- 
borough."  When  I  reached  his  bedside  I  found  the  sur- 
geon, the  clergyman,  and  the  colonel's  aid.  The  patient 
was  unconscious;  the  end  was  near.  We  sat  in  silence. 
Once,  when  he  stirred,  I  slipped  my  hand  under  his  head, 
and  put  his  canteen  once  more  to  his  lips.  After  a  long 
time  his  breathing  simply  ceased,  with  no  evidence  of 
pain.  We  waited  awhile,  and  then  the  young  soldier  who 
had  been  detailed  to  nurse  him  rose,  crossed  the  room, 
and  stooping  over,  kissed  me  on  my  forehead,  and  went 
out  to  his  duty  in  the  ranks. 

Two  weeks  later  I  was  in  my  room,  resting  after  a  hard 
day,  when  a  haggard  officer,  covered  with  mud  and  dust, 
entered.  It  was  my  husband.  "My  men  are  all  dead,"  he 
said,  with  anguish,  and,  falling  across  the  bed,  he  gave 
vent  to  the  passionate  grief  of  his  heart. 

Thousands  of  Confederate  soldiers  were  killed,  thou- 
sands wounded.    Richmond  was  saved ! 


DE;aTH  Q-e  MRS.  SARAH  K.  ROWIJ^  "m^  SOIyDI^RS'  S'RII^ND"' 

[From  Southern  Historical  Papers.] 

Orangkburg,  S.  C,  June  2, 1884. 

I  feel  warranted  in  informing  you  of  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Sarah  K.  Rowe,  which  occurred  yesterday,  the  ist  of 
June,  at  her  country  home  in  this  county.  Mrs.  Rowe  was 
known  for  four  and  a  half  years,  '61  to  '65,  as  "the 
soldiers'  friend."  I  detract  nothing  from  great  women 
all  over  the  South,  Cornelias  of  heroic  type,  when  I  state 
that  Mrs.  Rowe  was  pre-eminently  the  soldiers'  friend. 


WOM^N  O^  THK  CONI^I^DERACY  93 

If  this  should  meet  the  eye  of  Hood's  Texans,  of  Polk's 
Tennesseeans,  of  Morgan's  Kentuckians,  or  of  Pickett's 
Virginians,  any  of  whom  passed  on  the  South  Carolina 
Railroad  during  the  war,  her  face  beaming  with  benevo- 
lence, her  arms  loaded  with  food,  will  be  remembered  as 
one  of  the  sunny  events  of  a  dark  time.  From  the  first 
note  of  war  Mrs.  Rowe  gave  all  she  had  and  could  collect 
by  wonderful  energy  to  the  soldiers.  She  had  her  organ- 
ized squads.  The  gay,  strong  soldier  to  Virginia  was  fed 
and  cheered  on;  the  mangled  and  sick  were  nursed  and 
cared  for.  She  had  a  mother's  blessing  for  the  brave ;  a 
mother's  tears  and  sympathy  for  the  dying  and  the  dead. 
Mrs.  Rowe  emphatically  lived  and  spent  herself  for  the 
cause,  and  when  it  failed,  like  a  noble  woman  she  sub- 
mitted, with  the  remark,  "It  is  all  right."  The  sight  of  a 
bandaged  head  or  limb  under  her  soft  touch  was  an  every- 
day picture.  The  echo  of  a  thousand  cheers  as  the  troop 
trains  passed  her  was  recurring  every  day.  She  bandaged 
and  waved  God-speed  as  well.  A  few  days  ago  Mrs.* 
Rowe  showed  by  request  a  part  of  her  great  legacy — the 
letters  from  the  soldiers  she  had  nursed  to  life  again. 
Truly  her  reward  was  rich.  She  passed  away,  of  paraly- 
sis, at  a  ripe  old  age.  The  soldiers  and  survivors  buried 
her.  The  Young  and  "Old  Guard"  lowered  her  remains 
to  mother  earth.  When  Fame  makes  up  its  roll  her 
precious  name  should  stand  out — the  soldiers'  friend. 
Yours  truly, 

John  A.  Hamii^ton. 


YOU  WAIT 
[Phoebe  Y.   Pember,  in  Hospital  Life.] 

Pleasant  episodes  often  occurred  to  vary  disappoint- 
ments and  lighten  duties  of  hospital  life. 

"Kin  you  writ  a  letter?"  drawled  a  whining  voice  from 
a  bed  in  one  of  the  wards,  a  cold  day  in  '62. 

The  speaker  was  an  up-country  Georgian,  one  of  the 
kind  called  "Goobers"  by  the  soldiers  generally — lean, 


94  WOMKN  OS"  the;  CONIfKDDRACY 

yellow,  attenuated,  with  wispy  strands  of  hair  hanging 
over  his  high,  thin  cheek-bones.  He  put  out  a  hand  to 
detain  me  and  the  nails  were  like  claws. 

"Why  do  you  not  let  the  nurse  cut  your  nails  ?" 

"Because  I  aren't  got  any  spoon,  and  I  use  them  in- 
stead." 

"Will  you  let  me  have  your  hair  cut  then  ?  You  can't 
get  well  with  all  that  dirty  hair  hanging  about  your  eyes 
and  ears." 

"No,  I  can't  git  my  hair  cut,  kase  as  how  I  promised  my 
mammy  that  I  would  let  it  grow  till  the  war  be  over.  Oh, 
it's  unlucky  to  cut  it." 

"Then  I  can't  write  any  letter  for  you.  Do  what  I 
wish  you  to  do,  and  then  I  will  oblige  you." 

This  was  plain  talking.  The  hair  was  cut  (I  left  the 
nails  for  another  day),  my  portfolio  brought,  and  sitting 
by  the  side  of  his  bed  I  waited  for  further  orders.  They 
came  with  a  formal  introduction, — "for  Mrs.  Marthy 
Brown." 
"My  dear  mammy : 

"I  hope  this  finds  you  well,  as  it  leaves  me  well,  and  I 
hope  that  I  shall  git  a  furlough  Christmas,  and  come  and 
see  you,  and  I  hope  you  will  keep  well,  and  all  the  folks 
be  well  by  that  time,  as  I  hopes  to  be  well  myself.  This 
leaves  me  in  good  health,  as  I  hope  it  will  find  you  and — " 

But  here  I  paused  as  his  mind  seemed  to  be  going  round 
in  a  circle,  and  asked  him  a  few  questions  about  his  home, 
his  position  during  the  last  summer's  campaign,  how  he 
got  sick,  and  where  his  brigade  was  at  that  time.  Thus 
furnished  with  some  material  to  work  upon,  the  letter 
proceeded  rapidly.  Four  sides  were  conscientiously 
filled,  for  no  soldier  would  think  a  letter  worth  sending 
home  that  showed  any  blank  paper.  Transcribing  his 
name,  the  number  of  his  ward  and  proper  address,  so  that 
an  answer  might  reach  him — the  composition  was  read  to 
him.  Gradually  his  pale  face  brightened,  a  sitting  pos- 
ture was  assumed  with  difficulty  (for,  in  spite  of  his  de- 
termined effort  to  write  a  letter  "to  be  well,"  he  was  far 
from  convalescence).  As  I  folded  and  directed  it,  con- 
tributed the  expected  five-cent  stamp,  and  handed  it  to 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONEEDERACY  95 

him,  he  gazed  cautiously  around  to  be  sure  there  were  no 
hsteners. 

"Did  you  writ  all  that?"  he  asked,  whispering,  but  with 
great  emphasis. 

"Yes." 

"Did  I  say  all  that?" 

"I  think  you  did." 

A  long  pause  of  undoubted  admiration — astonish- 
ment— ensued.  What  was  working  in  that  poor  mind? 
Could  it  be  that  Psyche  had  stirred  one  of  the  delicate 
plumes  of  her  wing  and  touched  that  dormant  soul  ? 

"Are  you  married?"  The  harsh  voice  dropped  very 
low. 

"I  am  not.     At  least,  I  am  a  widow." 

He  rose  still  higher  in  bed.  He  pushed  away  desper- 
ately the  tangled  hay  on  his  brow.  A  faint  color  flut- 
tered over  the  hollow  cheek,  and  stretching  out  a  long 
piece  of  bone  with  a  talon  attached,  he  gently  touched  my 
arm  and  with  constrained  voice  whispered  mysteriously : 

"You  wait!" 


ANNANDAEE — TWO    HEROINES   OE    MISSISSIPPI 
[By  Anna  B.  A.  Brown,  in  Memphis  Commercial  World.] 

In  these  hurried  days,  when  we  spend  the  major  portion 
of  our  lives  trying  to  keep  up  with  the  electric  currents 
that  control  the  universe,  it  is  good  to  be  able  to  turn 
aside  for  a  while  in  the  byways  of  the  South  and  feel  the 
restfulness  of  old  plantation  life,  whether  it  be  a  reality  or 
an  echo  from  the  past.  A  day  spent  in  touch  with  old 
Southern  home  life  is  a  day  full  of  restful  peace  and 
happy  memories. 

In  Madison  County,  Mississippi,  one  finds  many  bits  of 
ante-bellum  life  that  the  turbulent  tide  of  commerce  has 
not  yet  swept  away — ^big  plantations,  historic  old  man- 
sions, tumble-down  slave  quarters — that  are  the  abiding 
proofs  of  the  prosperity  and  hospitality  of  a  people  who 
lived  and  loved  when  knighthood  was  yet  in  flower,  and 
whose  children  live  yet  to  preserve  the  old  traditions. 


96  woMi^N  oE*  The;  coni'eidkracy 

Many  of  the  old  plantations  are  still  tilled  by  the  de- 
scendants of  the  original  owners.  Many  have  passed  into 
stranger's  hands.  Some  stand  tenantless  and  lonely,  with 
ghostly  visitants  slipping  at  midnight  down  the  great 
stairways  to  tread  a  stately  measure  on  the  ball  floor,  a 
silent  assemblage  of  long-ago  belles  and  beaux  returned 
from  the  cities  of  the  dead  or  from  the  still  trenches  of 
Seven  Pines,  Chickamauga,  or  Shiloh. 

One  of  these  silent  homes  is  Annandale,  a  bit  of  historic 
Mississippi  architecture  that  stands  near  Canton,  once 
the  home  of  Southern  chivalry  and  romance,  now  empty, 
save  for  the  memories  that  cluster  thickly  within  its  walls. 
Annandale  is  the  property,  and  was  until  recently  the 
home  of  the  Mississippi  branch  of  the  Johnstone  family, 
and  preserves  to  memory  the  name  of  the  county  in  Scot- 
land that  cradled  the  ancestors  who  bore  this  illustrious 
name.  It  is  still  known  as  their  home,  though  Vicksburg 
now  claims  the  daughter  of  the  house,  and  only  in  the 
summers  are  the  doors  opened  again  for  that  lavish  hos- 
pitality for  which  the  old  place  was  noted.  Two  brothers 
of  the  Johnstone  family  came  over  from  Scotland  in  1734, 
having  been  sent  by  George  III,  on  business  of  great  im- 
port to  the  colonies.  One  had  the  appointment  of  gover- 
nor to  his  majesty's  colony  of  North  Carolina,  the  other 
that  of  surveyor-general.  The  Johnstone  family  re- 
mained loyal  to  their  king  as  long  as  native  pride  would 
permit,  and  then,  true  to  the  spirit  that  demanded  the 
Magna  Charta  at  Runnymede  centuries  before,  they  went 
to  the  American  settlements  in  the  fight  for  liberty.  They 
were  prominent  in  the  Revolution,  and  after  the  war  took 
part  in  the  political  work  of  building  up  the  nation. 

John  T.  Johnstone,  a  prominent  member  of  this  family, 
moved  from  North  Carolina  to  Mississippi  in  1836  and 
bought  large  tracts  of  land  in  Madison  County.  On  the 
plantation  near  Annandale  he  built  a  comfortable  home — 
a  fine  house  for  those  days  of  pioneer  effort.  His  neigh- 
bors were  the  families  of  Hardeman,  Hinton,  Ricks,  Win- 
ters and  Christmas,  and  there  are  still  marvelous  tales 
told  in  that  locality  of  the  lavish  manner  of  living,  the 
wonderful  hospitality  dispensed  and  the  gay  companies 


WOMDN  Olf  THE  CONIfl^DElRACY  97 

that  assembled  in  the  old  home,  A  few  years  of  this 
charmed  life  Mr.  Johnstone  called  his,  and  then  he  was 
gathered  to  his  illustrious  fathers,  and  the  burden  of  this 
great  estate  fell  on  the  shoulders  of  his  young  widow. 
She  stood  the  test  of  generalship,  as  other  Southern 
women  of  her  day  have  done,  and  the  affairs  of  the  planta- 
tion, the  slave  quarters  and  the  household  moved  as 
smoothly  as  clock  work  and  success  smiled  on  her.  The 
material  side  of  her  plantation's  progress  did  not  over- 
shadow the  religious  side,  and  services  for  bond  and  free 
were  held  daily  in  a  gothic  church  on  the  estate,  the 
chapel  of  the  cross  which  Mrs.  Johnstone  had  erected  in 
memory  of  her  husband.  The  daughter  of  the  house  was 
carefully  educated,  and  as  she  neared  womanhood  Mrs. 
Johnstone  had  a  new  home  built,  the  present  Annandale, 
and  the  same  lavish  hospitality  was  continued. 

Then  came  the  war.  There  was  no  husband,  brother 
or  son  to  send  to  the  front,  but  the  women,  true  to  the 
patriotic  sentiments  of  their  house,  gave  of  their  best.* 
The  big  mansion  was  turned  into  a  factory  for  supplying 
Confederate  needs.  Mrs.  Johnstone  and  her  fair  daugh- 
ter, Helen,  became  the  head  of  a  busy  body  of  working 
women,  who  gave  of  their  time  and  talent  for  the  South. 
All  day  was  heard  the  whir  of  spinning-wheels,  the  slip- 
ping of  the  shuttles  in  the  looms;  all  day  busy  fingers 
carded,  wove,  spun  and  sewed,  that  the  soldiers  might  be 
made  more  comfortable.  One  company  of  soldiers  was 
equipped  throughout  the  war  solely  at  Miss  Johnstone's 
expense,  while  she  and  her  mother  furnished  clothing  to 
two  hundred  others.  The  setting  of  dainty  stitches,  the 
manufacture  of  rolled  and  whipped  ruffles,  were  laid  aside 
for  the  time.  The  rich  carpets  were  torn  from  the  floors 
and  made  into  blankets ;  the  rare  bronzes  and  brasses 
were  torn  from  their  pedestals  or  their  fastenings  and 
sent  to  the  foundries  to  be  made  into  cannon ;  silk  dresses 
were  transformed  into  banners  to  lead  the  gray-clad  men 
to  victory,  and  dainty  linen  and  cambric  garments  and 
rare  household  napery  and  linen  were  ruthlessly  torn  in 
strips  to  bandage  the  wounds  of  the  men  in  the  hospitals. 
7 


98  WOMHN  0^  Tut  CONI^KDKRACY 

The  granaries,  smokehouses,  and  wine  cellars  gave  up 
their  stores  for  the  Confederacy,  the  wealth  of  these  two 
loyal  women  being  laid  gladly  on  their  country's  altar. 
Yet,  through  all  this  troublous  season,  hospitality  and 
merriment  still  reigned.  The  rebel  lads  adored  the  loyal 
women ;  the  Union  soldiers  tried  more  than  once  to  burr> 
the  house  that  sheltered  such  secessionists. 

During  the  war  the  fair  daughter  of  the  house  was  mar- 
ried to  Rev.  George  Carroll  Harris,  of  Nashville,  and  for 
many  years  rector  of  Christ  Church,  and  widely  known 
throughout  the  South. 

In  1880  Mrs.  Johnstone  died,  and  historic  Annandale 
passed  into  her  daughter's  hands,  and  is  still  owned  by 
her.  A  few  years  ago  the  son  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Harris, 
George  Harris,  married  Miss  Cecile  Nugent,  of  Jackson, 
Mississippi,  and  they  live  on  his  place  in  the  Delta,  and 
with  the  marriage  of  the  daughter  Helen  to  the  son  of 
the  late  Bishop  Thompson  the  younger  generation  of 
Annandale  closed  another  chapter  of  romances  for  the 
old  home.  But  even  though  the  windows  are  darkened 
and  no  material  form  passes  daily  over  the  threshold,  the 
inner  air  is  still  palpitant  with  memories,  and  who  knows 
what  gay  revels  the  ghostly  companies  of  the  past  may 
not  hold  in  the  grand  salon  when  midnight  has  come  and 
the  human  world  is  wrapped  in  slumber? 


A  PI.ANTATION  HI^ROINi: 
[In  Southern  Soldier  Stories,  pages  203-205.] 

It  was  nearing  the  end.  Every  resource  of  the  South- 
ern States  had  been  taxed  to  the  point  of  exhaustion. 
The  people  had  given  up  everything  they  had  for  "the 
cause."  Under  the  law  of  a  "tax  in  kind,"  they  had  sur- 
rendered all  they  could  spare  of  food  products  of  every 
character.  Under  an  untamable  impulse  of  patriotism 
they  had  surrendered  much  more  than  they  could  spare  in 
order  to  feed  the  army. 

It  was  at  such  a  time  that  I  went  to  my  home  county  on 


WOMKN  O^  TH^  CONIf^DElRACY  99 

a  little  military  business.  I  stopped  for  dinner  at  a  house, 
the  lavish  hospitality  of  which  had  been  a  byword  in  the 
old  days.  I  found  before  me  at  dinner  the  remnants  of 
a  cold  boiled  ham,  some  mustard  greens,  which  we  Vir- 
ginians called  "salad,"  a  pitcher  of  buttermilk,  some  corn 
pones  and — nothing  else.  I  carved  the  ham,  and  offered 
to  serve  it  to  the  three  women  of  the  household.  But  they 
all  declined.  They  made  their  dinner  on  salad,  butter- 
milk, and  corn  bread,  the  latter  eaten  very  sparingly,  as  I 
observed.  The  ham  went  only  to  myself  and  to  the  three 
convalescent  wounded  soldiers  who  were  guests  in  the 
house.  Wounded  men  were  at  that  time  guests  in  every 
house  in  Virginia. 

I  lay  awake  that  night  and  thought  over  the  circum- 
stance. The  next  morning  I  took  occasion  to  have  a  talk 
on  the  old  familiar  terms  with  the  young  woman  of  the 
family,  with  whom  I  had  been  on  a  basis  of  friendship  in 
the  old  days  that  even  permitted  me  to  kiss  her  upon  due 
and  proper  occasion. 

"Why  didn't  you  take  some  ham  last  night?"  I  asked 
urgently. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  want  it,"  she  replied. 

"Now,  you  know  you  are  fibbing,"  I  said.  "Tell  me 
the  truth,  won't  you?" 

She  blushed,  and  hesitated.  Presently  she  broke  down 
and  answered  frankly :  "Honestly,  I  did  want  the  ham. 
I  have  hungered  for  meat  for  months.  But  I  mustn't  eat 
it,  and  I  won't.  You  see  the  army  needs  all  the  food 
there  is,  and  more.  We  women  can't  fight,  though  I 
don't  see  at  all  why  they  shouldn't  let  us,  and  so  we  are 
trying  to  feed  the  fighting  men — and  there  aren't  any 
others.  We've  made  up  our  minds  not  to  eat  anything 
that  can  be  sent  to  the  front  as  rations." 

"You  are  starving  yourselves,"  I  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said.  "And  if  we  were,  what  would  it 
matter?  Haven't  Lee's  soldiers  starved  many  a  day? 
But  we  aren't  starving.  You  see  we  had  plenty  of  salad 
and  buttermilk  last  night.  And  we  even  ate  some  of  the 
corn  bread.  I  must  stop  that,  by  the  way,  for  corn  meal 
is  a  good  ration  for  the  soldiers." 


lOO  WOM^N  OP  TH^  CONIf^DElRACY 

A  month  or  so  later  this  frail  but  heroic  young  girl  was 
laid  away  in  the  Grub  Hill  church-yard. 

Don't  talk  to  me  about  the  "heroism"  that  braves  a  fire 
of  hell  under  enthusiastic  impulse.  That  young  girl  did  a 
higher  self-sacrifice  than  any  soldier  who  fought  on  either 
side  during  the  war  ever  dreamed  of  doing. 


ivUCY  ANN  cox 


[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  22,  pages  54-55.     From  the  Richmond 
Star,  July  21,  1894.] 

On  the  evening  of  October  15th  an  entertainment  was 
given  in  Fredericksburg,  Virginia,  to  raise  funds  to  erect 
a  monument  to  the  memory  of  Mrs.  Lucy  Ann  Cox,  who, 
at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  surrendered  all  the  com- 
fort of  her  father's  home,  and  followed  the  fortunes  of 
her  husband,  who  was  a  member  of  Company  A,  Thir- 
teenth Virginia  Regiment,  until  the  flag  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy  was  furled  at  Appomattox.  No  march  was 
too  long  or  weather  too  inclement  to  deter  this  patriotic 
woman  from  doing  what  she  considered  her  duty.  She 
was  with  her  company  and  regiment  on  their  two  forays 
into  Maryland,  and  her  ministering  hand  carried  comfort 
to  many  a  wounded  and  worn  soldier.  While  Company 
A  was  the  object  of  her  untiring  solicitude,  no  Confeder- 
ate ever  asked  assistance  from  Mrs.  Cox  but  it  was  cheer- 
fully rendered. 

She  marched  as  the  infantry  did,  seldom  taking  ad- 
vantage of  offered  rides  in  ambulances  and  wagon- trains. 
When  Mrs.  Cox  died,  a  few  years  ago,  it  was  her  latest 
expressed  wish  that  she  be  buried  with  military  honors, 
and,  so  far  as  it  was  possible,  her  wish  was  carried  out. 
Her  funeral  took  place  on  a  bright  autumn  Sunday,  and 
the  entire  town  turned  out  to  do  honor  to  this  noble 
woman. 

The  camps  that  have  undertaken  the  erection  of  this 
monument  do  honor  to  themselves  in  thus  commemora- 
ting the  virtues  of  the  heroine,  Lucy  Ann  Cox. 


WOMEN  OP  THE  CONI^EIDERACY  Id 

"'one  op  them  I,EES" 

[Phoebe  Y.  Pember,  in  Hospital  Life.] 

There  was  little  conversation  carried  on,  no  necessity 
for  introductions,  and  no  names  ever  asked  or  given. 
This  indifference  to  personality  was  a  peculiarity  strongly 
exhibited  in  hospitals;  for  after  nursing  a  sick  or 
wounded  patient  for  months,  he  has  often  left  without 
any  curiosity  as  regarded  my  name,  my  whereabouts,  or 
indeed  anything  connected  with  me.  A  case  in  point  was 
related  by  a  friend.  When  the  daughter  of  our  general 
had  devoted  much  time  and  care  to  a  sick  man  in  one  of 
the  hospitals,  he  seemed  to  feel  so  little  gratitude  for  the 
attention  paid  him  that  her  companion  to  rouse  him  told 
him  that  Miss  Lee  was  his  nurse.  "Lee,  Lee?"  he  said. 
"There  are  some  Lees  down  in  Mississippi  who  keeps  a 
tavern  there.     Is  she  one  of  them  Lees  ?" 

Almost  of  the  same  style,  although  a  little  worse,  was 
the  remark  of  one  sick,  poor  fellow  who  had  been 
wounded  in  the  head  and  who,  though  sensible  enough 
ordinarily,  would  feel  the  effect  of  the  sun  on  his  brain 
when  exposed  to  its  influence.  After  advising  him  to 
wear  a  wet  paper  doubled  into  the  crown  of  his  hat,  more 
from  a  desire  to  show  some  interest  in  him  than  from  any 
belief  in  its  efficacy,  I  paused  at  the  door  long  enough  to 
hear  him  ask  the  ward-master,  "who  that  was  ?" 

"Why,  that  is  the  matron  of  the  hospital ;  she  gives  you 
all  the  food  you  eat,  and  attends  to  things." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  always  did  think  this  government 
was  a  confounded  sell,  and  now  I  am  sure  of  it,  when 
they  put  such  a  little  fool  to  manage  such  a  big  hospital  as 
this." 


SOUTHERN    WOMEN   IN   THE   WAR   BETWEEN   THE   STATES 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  32,  pages  146-150.     T.  C.  DeL,eon,  in 
New   Orleans  Picayune. 

The  great  German  who  wrote : 

"Honor   to   woman!     to  her  it  is   given 
To   garden   the   earth   with   roses  of  heaven  1" 


102  WOM^N  OP  TH^  CONI^DDKRACY 

precisely  described  the  Confederate  conditions — a  century 
in  advance.  True,  constant,  brave  and  enduring,  the  men 
were ;  but  the  women  set  even  the  bravest  and  most  stead- 
fast example.  Nor  was  this  conjfined  to  any  one  section 
of  the  country.  The  "girl  with  the  calico  dress"  of  the 
lowland  farms;  the  "merry  mountain  maid"  of  the  hill 
country,  and  the  belles  of  society  in  the  cities,  all  vied  with 
each  other  in  efforts  to  serve  the  men  who  had  gone  to  the 
front  to  fight  for  home  and  for  them.  And  there  was  no 
section  of  the  South  where  this  desire  to  do  all  they  might 
and  more  was  oftener  in  evidence  than  another.  In  every 
camp  of  the  early  days  of  the  great  struggle  the  incoming 
troops  bore  trophies  of  home  love,  and  as  the  war  pro- 
gressed to  need,  then  to  dire  want,  the  sacrifices  of  those 
women  at  home  became  almost  a  poem,  and  one  most 
pathetic.  Dress — misconceived  as  the  feminine  fetich — 
was  forgotten  in  the  eif ort  to  clothe  the  boys  at  the  front ; 
the  family  larder — ill-stocked  at  the  best — was  depleted  to 
nothingness,  to  send  to  distant  camps  those  delicacies — • 
so  equally  freighted  with  tenderness  and  dyspepsia — 
which  too  often  never  reached  their  destination.  And 
later,  the  carpets  were  taken  from  the  floors,  the  curtains 
from  the  windows — alike  in  humble  homes  and  in  dwell- 
ings of  the  rich — to  be  cut  in  blankets  for  the  uncomplain- 
ing fellows,  sleeping  on  freezing  mud. 

So  wide,  so  universal,  was  the  rule  of  self-sacrifice,  that 
no  one  reference  to  it  can  do  justice  to  the  zeal  and  devo- 
tion of  "Our  Girls."  And  the  best  proof  of  both  was  in 
the  hospitals,  where  soon  began  to  congregate  the  maimed 
and  torn  forms  of  those  just  sent  forth  to  glory  and  vic- 
tory. This  was  the  trial  that  tested  the  grain  and  purity 
of  our  womanhood,  and  left  it  without  alloy  of  fear  or 
selfishness.  And  some  of  the  women  who  wrought  in 
home  and  hospital — even  in  trench  and  on  the  firing  line — 
for  the  "boys,"  had  never  before  handled  aught  rougher 
than  embroidery,  or  seen  aught  more  fearsome  than  its 
needle-prick.  Yes,  these  untried  women,  young  and  old, 
stood  fire  like  veteran  regulars,  indeed,  even  more  bravely 
in  moral  view,  for  they  missed  the  stimulus  of  the 
charge — the  tonic  in  the  thought  of  striking  back. 


\ 
\ 

\ 

^..WOMEN  OF  THD  CONI^EDERACY  IO3 

During  the  entire  war — and  through  the  entire  South — 
it  was  the  hospital  that  illustrated  the  highest  and  best 
traits  of  the  tried  and  stricken  people.  Doubtless,  there 
was  good  work  done  by  the  women  of  the  North,  and 
much  of  it.  Happily,  for  the  sanity  of  the  nation,  Ameri- 
can womanhood  springs  from  one  common  stock.  It  is 
ever  true  to  its  own,  as  a  whole — and,  for  aught  I  shall 
deny — individually.  But  behind  that  Chinese  wall  of 
wood  and  steel  blockade,  then  nursing  was  not  an  episode. 
It  was  grave  duty,  grim  labor;  heartbreaking  endur- 
ance— all  self-imposed,  and  lasting  for  years,  yet  shirked 
and  relinquished  only  for  cause. 

But  the  dainty  little  hands  that  tied  the  red  bandages, 
or  "held  the  artery"  unflinching;  the  nimble  feet  that 
wearied  not  by  fever  cot,  or  operating  table,  the  active 
months  of  war,  grew  nimbler  still  on  bridle,  or  in  the 
dances  when  ''the  boys"  came  home.  This  was  some- 
times on  ''flying  furlough,"  or  when  an  aid,  or  courier, 
with  dispatches,  was  told  to  wait.  Then  "the  one  girl" 
was  mounted  on  anything  that  could  carry  her;  and  the 
party  would  ride  far  to  the  front,  in  full  view  of  the 
enemy,  and  often  in  point-blank  range.  Or,  it  was  when 
frozen  ruts  made  roads  impassable  for  invader  and  de- 
fender ;  and  the  furlough  was  perhaps  easier,  and  longer. 
Then  came  those  now  historic  dances,  the  starvation  par- 
ties, where  rank  told  nothing,  and  where  the  only  refresh- 
ment came  in  that  intoxicant — a  woman's  voice  and  eyes. 

Then  came  the  "Dies  Irae,"  when  the  Southern  Rachel 
sat  in  the  ashes  of  her  desolation  and  her  homespun  was 
sackcloth.  And  even  she  rose  supreme.  By  her  desolate 
hearth,  with  her  larder  empty,  and  only  her  aching  heart 
full,  she  still  forced  a  smile  for  the  home-coming  "boy" 
through  the  repressed  tears  for  the  one  left,  somewhere  in 
the  fight. 

In  Richmond,  Atlanta,  Charleston  and  elsewhere  was 
she  bitter  and  unforgiving?  If  she  drew  her  faded 
skirt — ever  a  black  one,  in  that  case — from  the  passing 
blue,  was  it  "treason,"  or  human  nature?  Thinkers  who 
wore  the  blue  have  time  and  oft  declared  the  latter.  Was 
she   "unreconstructed?"     Her   wounds  were  great  and 


I04  WOM^N  OF  THi;  CONI^DDDRACY 

wondrous  sore.  She  was  true,  then,  to  her  faith.  That 
she  is  to-day  to  the  reunited  land  let  the  fathers  of  Span- 
ish war  heroes  tell.  She  needs  no  monument;  it  is 
reared  in  the  hearts  of  true  men.  North  and  South. 


A  mothe;r  of  thf  confedejracy 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  22,  pages  63-64.     From  the  Memphis, 
Tenn.,  Appeal-Avalanche,  June  30,  1894.] 

Just  Upon  the  eve  of  preparations  by  ex-Confederates  to 
celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July  in  a  becoming  manner  and 
spirit,  the  sad  news  is  announced  of  the  death  of  the  ven- 
erable Mrs.  Law,  known  all  over  the  South  as  one  of  the 
mothers  of  the  Confederacy.  She  was  also  truly  a 
mother  in  Israel,  in  the  highest  Christian  sense.  Her 
life  had  been  closely  connected  with  that  of  many  leading 
actors  in  the  late  war,  in  which  she  herself  bore  an  es- 
sential part.  She  passed  away,  June  28th,  at  Idlewild, 
one  of  the  suburbs  of  Memphis,  nearly  89  years  of  age. 

She  was  born  on  the  River  Yadkin,  in  Wilson  County, 
North  Carolina,  August  2y,  1805,  and  at  the  time  of  her 
death  was  doubtless  the  oldest  person  in  Shelby  County. 
Her  mother's  maiden  name  was  Charity  King.  Her 
father.  Chapman  Gordon,  served  in  the  Revolutionary 
War,  under  Generals  Marion  and  Sumter.  She  came  of  a 
long-lived  race  of  people.  Her  mother  lived  to  be  93 
years  of  age,  and  her  brother.  Rev.  Hezekiah  Herndon 
Gordon,  who  was  the  father  of  General  John  B.  Gordon 
(now  Senator  from  Georgia),  lived  to  the  age  of  92 
years. 

Sallie  Chapman  Gordon  was  married  to  Dr.  John  S. 
Law,  near  Eatonton,  Georgia,  on  the  28th  day  of  June, 
1825.  A  few  years  later  she  became  a  member  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  in  Forsyth,  Georgia,  and  her  name 
was  afterward  transferred  to  the  rolls  of  the  Second  Pres- 
byterian Church  in  Memphis,  of  which  church  she  re- 
mained a  member  as  long  as  she  lived. 

She  became  an  active  worker  in  hospitals,  and  when 


WOMI^N  Olf  THD  CONI^KDEIRACY  IO5 

nothing  more  could  be  done  in  Memphis  she  went  through 
the  Hnes  and  rendered  substantial  aid  and  comfort  to  the 
soldiers  in  the  field.  Her  services,  if  fully  recorded, 
would  make  a  book.  She  was  so  recognized  that  upon 
one  occasion  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston  had  30,000  of 
his  bronzed  and  tattered  soldiers  to  pass  in  review  in  her 
honor  at  Dalton.  Such  a  distinction  was,  perhaps,  never 
accorded  to  any  other  woman  in  the  South — not  even  Mrs. 
Jefferson  Davis  or  the  wives  of  great  generals.  Yet,  so 
earnest  and  sincere  in  her  work  was  she  that  she  com- 
manded the  respect  and  reverence  of  men  wherever  she 
was  known.  After  the  war  she  strove  to  comfort  the  van- 
quished and  encourage  the  down-hearted,  and  continued 
in  her  way  to  do  much  good  work. 


"the  great  eastern" 

[In  Christ  in   Camp,  pages  94-98;    J.  William  Jones,  D.   D.] 

Here  is  another  sketch  of  a  soldier's  friend  who  labored 
in  some  of  our  largest  hospitals. 

"She  is  a  character,"  writes  a  soldier.  "A  Napoleon  of 
her  department,  with  the  firmness  and  courage  of  An- 
drew, she  possesses  all  the  energy  and  independence  of 
Stonewall  Jackson.  The  officials  hate  her;  the  soldiers 
adore  her.  The  former  name  her  'The  Great  Eastern,' 
and  steer  wide  of  her  track,  the  latter  go  to  her  in  all  their 
wants  and  troubles,  and  know  her  by  the  name  of  'Miss 
Sally.'  She  joined  the  army  in  one  of  the  regiments 
from  Alabama,  about  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Manassas, 
and  never  shrunk  from  the  stern  privations  of  the  soldier's 
life  from  the  moment  of  leaving  camp  to  follow  her 
wounded  and  sick  Alabamians  to  the  hospitals  of  Rich- 
mond. Her  services  are  not  confined,  however,  to  the 
sick  and  wounded  from  Alabama.  Every  sick  soldier  has 
now  a  claim  on  her  sympathy.  Why,  but  yesterday,  my 
system  having  succumbed  to  the  prevailing  malaria  of  the 
hospital,  she  came  to  my  room,  though  a  stranger,  with 
my  ward  nurse,  and  in  the  kindest  manner  offered  me  her 


io6  WOMEN  oif  the;  coni^eideracy 

pillow  of  feathers,  with  case  as  tidy  as  the  driven  snow. 
The  very  sight  of  it  was  soothing  to  an  aching  brow,  and 
I  blessed  her  from  heart  and  lips  as  well.  I  must  not 
omit  to  tell  why  'Miss  Sally'  is  so  disliked  by  many  of 
the  officials.  Like  all  women  of  energy,  she  has  eyes 
whose  penetration  few  things  escape,  and  a  sagacity  fear- 
ful or  admirable,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  all  interested.  If 
any  abuse  is  pending,  or  in  progress  in  the  hospital,  she  is 
quickly  on  the  track,  and  if  not  abated,  off  'The  Great 
Eastern'  sails  to  headquarters.  A  few  days  ago  one  of 
the  officials  of  the  division  sent  a  soldier  to  inform  her 
that  she  must  vacate  her  room  instantly,  'Who  sent  you 
with  that  message  to  me?'  she  asked  him,  turning  sud- 
denly   around.      'Dr.    ,'    the    soldier    answered, 

'Pish !'  she  replied,  and  swept  on  in  ineffable  contempt  to 
the  bedside,  perhaps,  of  some  sick  soldier." 


CORDIAI,  FOR  THE  BRAVE 

[Elggleston's  Recollections,  pages  70-71.] 

The  ingenuity  with  which  these  good  ladies  discovered 
or  manufactured  onerous  duties  for  themselves  was  sur- 
prising, and  having  discovered  or  imagined  some  new 
duty  they  straightway  proceeded  to  do  it  at  any  cost. 

An  excellent  Richmond  dame  was  talking  with  a  soldier 
friend,  when  he  carelessly  remarked  that  there  was 
nothing  which  so  greatly  helped  to  keep  up  a  contented 
and  cheerful  spirit  among  the  men  as  the  receipt  of  letters 
from  their  woman  friends.  Catching  at  the  suggestion 
as  a  revelation  of  duty,  she  asked,  "And  cheerfulness 
makes  better  soldiers  of  the  men,  does  it  not?"  Receiv- 
ing yes  for  an  answer,  the  frail  little  woman,  already 
over-burdened  with  cares  of  an  unusual  sort,  sat  down 
and  made  out  a  list  of  all  the  men  with  whom  she  was 
acquainted  even  in  the  smallest  possible  way,  and  from 
that  day  until  the  end  of  the  war  she  wrote  one  letter  a 
week  to  each,  a  task  which,  as  her  acquaintance  was 
large,  taxed  her  time  and  strength  very  severely.     Not 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  IO7 

content  with  this,  she  wrote  on  the  subject  in  the  news- 
papers, earnestly  urging  a  hke  course  upon  her  sisters, 
many  of  whom  adopted  the  suggestion  at  once,  much  to 
the  deHght  of  the  soldiers,  who  little  dreamed  that  the 
kindly,  cheerful,  friendly  letters  which  every  mail 
brought  into  camp  were  a  part  of  woman's  self-appointed 
work  for  the  success  of  the  common  cause.  From  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  the  war  it  was  the  same. 


HOSPITAI^  WORK  AND  WOMEN  S  DEEICACY 
[Phoebe  Y.  Pember,  in  Hospital  Life.] 

There  is  one  subject  connected  with  hospitals  on  which 
a  few  words  should  be  said — the  distasteful  one  that  a 
woman  must  lose  a  certain  amount  of  delicacy  and  reti- 
cence in  filling  any  office  in  them.  How  can  this  he? 
There  is  no  unpleasant  exposure  under  proper  arrange- 
ments, and  if  even  there  be,  the  circumstances  which  sur- 
round a  wounded  man,  far  from  friends  and  home,  suf- 
fering in  a  holy  cause  and  dependent  upon  a  woman  for 
help,  care  and  sympathy,  hallow  and  clear  the  atmosphere 
in  which  she  labors.  That  woman  must  indeed  be  hard 
and  gross  who  lets  one  material  thought  lessen  her  effi- 
ciency. In  the  midst  of  suffering  and  death,  hoping  with 
those  almost  beyond  hope  in  this  world;  praying  by  the 
bedside  of  the  lonely  and  heart-stricken ;  closing  the 
eyes  of  boys  hardly  old  enough  to  realize  man's  sorrow, 
much  less  suffer  by  man's  fierce  hate,  a  woman  must  soar 
beyond  the  conventional  modesty  considered  correct 
under  different  circumstances. 

If  the  ordeal  does  not  chasten  and  purify  her  nature,  if 
the  contemplation  of  suffering  and  endurance  does  not 
make  her  wiser  and  better,  and  if  the  daily  fire  through 
which  she  passes  does  not  draw  from  her  nature  the  sweet 
fragrance  of  benevolence,  charity,  and  love, — then,  in- 
deed, a  hospital  has  been  no  fit  place  for  her. 


io8  woMEiN  0^  th:^  confdddracy 

A  WAYSIDD  HOME  AT  MII^I^DN 
[Electra  Tyler  Deloache,  in  Augusta  Chronicle,  October  29,  1905.] 

Only  a  few  of  the  present  inhabitants  of  Millen  know 
that  it  was  once  famous  as  the  location  of  a  Confederate 
Wayside  Home,  where,  during  the  civil  war,  the  soldiers 
were  fed  and  cared  for.  The  home  was  built  by  public 
subscription  and  proved  a  veritable  boon  to  the  soldiers, 
as  many  veterans  now  living  can  testify. 

The  location  of  the  town  has  been  changed  slightly 
since  the  6o's,  for  in  those  days  the  car  sheds  were  several 
hundred  yards  farther  up  the  Macon  track,  and  were 
situated  where  the  railroad  crossing  is  now.  The  hotel 
owned  and  run  by  Mr.  Gray  was  first  opposite  the  depot, 
and  the  location  is  still  marked  by  mock-orange  trees  and 
shrubbery. 

The  Wayside  Home  was  on  the  west  side  of  the  rail- 
road crossing  and  was  opposite  the  house  built  in  the  rail- 
road Y  by  Major  Wilkins  and  familiarly  known  here  as 
the  Berrien  House.  The  old  well  still  marks  the  spot. 
The  home  was  weather-boarded  with  rough  planks  run- 
ning straight  up  and  down.  It  had  four  large  rooms  to 
the  front,  conveniently  furnished  with  cots,  etc.,  for  the 
accommodation  of  any  soldiers  who  were  sick  or 
wounded  and  unable  to  continue  their  journey.  A  nurse 
was  always  on  hand  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  sick. 
Back  of  these  rooms  was  a  large  dining  hall  and  kitchen, 
where  the  weary  and  hungry  boys  in  gray  could  minister 
to  the  wants  of  the  inner  man.  And  right  royally  they 
performed  this  pleasant  duty,  for  the  table  was  always 
bountifully  supplied  with  good  things,  donated  by  the 
patriotic  women  of  Burke  county,  who  gladly  emptied 
hearts  and  home  upon  the  altar  of  country.  This  work 
was  entirely  under  the  auspices  of  the  women  of  Burke, 
Mrs.  Judge  Jones,  of  Waynesboro,  was  the  first  president 
of  the  home.  She  was  succeeded  by  Mrs.  Ransom 
Lewis,  who  was  second  and  last.  She  was  quite  an  ac-, 
tive  factor  in  the  work,  and  it  was  largely  due  to  her 
efforts  that  the  home  attained  the  prominence  that  it  did 
among  similar  institutions. 


WOMIJN  OS'  THB  confederacy  IO9 

Miss  Annie  Bailey,  daughter  of  Captain  Bailey,  of  Sa- 
vannah, was  matron  of  the  home.  She  was  assisted  in 
the  work  by  committees  of  three  ladies,  who,  each  in  turn, 
spent  several  days  at  the  home.  The  regular  servants 
\\ere  kept  and  extra  help  called  in  when  needed. 

This  home  was  to  the  weary  and  hungry  Confederate 
soldier  as  an  oasis  in  the  desert,  for  here  he  found  rest 
and  plenty  beneath  its  shelter.  And  the  social  feature 
was  not  its  least  attraction,  when  a  bevy  of  blooming 
girls  from  our  bonny  Southland  would  visit  the  home, 
and  midst  feast  and  jest  spur  the  boys  on  to  renewed 
vigor  in  the  cause  of  the  South.  They  felt  amidst  such 
inspirations  it  would  be  glorious  to  die  but  more  glorious 
to  live  for  such  a  land  of  charming  women.  One  of  our 
matrons  with  her  sweet  old  face  softened  into  a  dreamy 
smile  by  happy  reminiscences  of  those  days  of  toil,  care, 
and  sorrow,  where  happy  thoughts  and  pleasantries  of 
the  past  crowded  in  and  made  little  rifts  of  sunshine 
through  the  war  clouds,  remarked:  "But  with  all  the 
gloom  and  suffering,  we  girls  used  to  have  such  fun  with 
the  soldiers  at  the  home,  and  at  such  times  we  could  even 
forget  that  our  loved  South  was  in  the  throes  of  the  most 
terrible  war  in  the  history  of  any  country !" 

The  home  was  operated  for  two  years  or  more  and 
often  whole  regiments  of  soldiers  came  to  it,  and  all  that 
could  be  accommodated  were  taken  in  and  cared  for. 

It  was  destroyed  by  Sherman's  army  on  their  march  to 
the  sea.  The  car  shed,  depot,  hotel  and  home  all  disap- 
peared before  the  torch  of  the  destroyer  and  only  the 
memory,  the  well,  and  the  trees  remain  to  mark  the  his- 
toric spot  where  the  heroic  efforts  of  our  Burke  county 
women  sustained  the  Wayside  Home  through  long  years 
of  the  struggle. 

Mrs.  Amos  Whitehead  and  others  who  have  "crossed 
the  river"  were  prominently  connected  with  this  work ; 
in  fact,  every  one  lent  a  helping  hand,  for  it  was  truly  a 
labor  of  love,  and  was  our  Southern  women's  tribute  to 
patriotism  and  heroism. 


no  woME^N  01^  The  coni'Dddracy 

A  NOBIvK  GIRIv 

[From  the  Floridian,   1864.] 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  troops  at  Madison  sent  to  re- 
inforce our  army  in  East  Florida,  the  ladies  attended  at 
the  depot  with  provisions  and  refreshments  for  the  de- 
fenders of  their  home  and  country.  Among  the  brave 
war-v^orn  soldiers  v^ho  were  rushing  to  the  defence  of 
our  State  there  was,  in  one  of  the  Georgia  regiments,  a 
soldier  boy,  whose  bare  feet  were  bleeding  from  the  ex- 
posure and  fatigue  of  the  march.  One  of  the  young 
ladies  present,  moved  by  the  impulse  of  her  sex,  took  the 
shoes  from  her  own  feet,  made  the  suffering  hero  put 
them  on,  and  walked  home  herself  barefooted.  Wherever 
Southern  soldiers  have  suffered  and  bled  for  their  coun- 
try's freedom,  let  this  incident  be  told  for  a  memorial  of 
Lou  Taylor,  of  Madison  county. 


The;  good  Samaritan 

[In  Christ  in  Camp,  pages  98-99;    J.  William  Jones,  D.  D.] 

At  Richmond,  Va.,  there  was  a  little  model  hospital 
known  as  the  "Samaritan,"  presided  over  by  a  lady  who 
gave  it  her  undivided  attention,  and  greatly  endeared 
herself  to  the  soldiers  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  be 
sent  there.  "Through  my  son,  a  young  soldier  of  eigh- 
teen," writes  a  father,  "I  have  become  acquainted  with 
this  lady  superintendent,  whose  memory  will  live  in  many 
hearts  when  our  present  struggle  shall  have  ended.  But 
for  her  motherly  care  and  skilful  attention  my  son  and 
many  others  must  have  died.  One  case  of  her  attention 
deserves  special  notice.  A  young  man,  who  had  been 
previously  with  her,  was  taken  sick  in  camp  near  Rich- 
mond. The  surgeon  being  absent,  he  lay  for  two  weeks 
in  his  tent  without  medical  aid.  She  sent  several  re- 
quests to  his  captain  to  send  him  to  her,  but  he  would  not 
in  the  absence  of  the  surgeon.  She  then  hired  a  wagon 
and  went  for  him  herself ;  the  captain  allowed  her  to  take 
him  away,  and  he  was  soon  convalescent.     She  says  she 


WOMEN  OI'  THE  CONIf^DERACY  III 

feels  that  not  their  bodies  only  but  their  souls  are  commit- 
ted to  her  charge.  Thus,  as  soon  as  they  are  comfortably 
fixed  in  a  good,  clean  bed,  she  inquires  of  every  one  if  he 
has  chosen  the  good  part;  and  through  her  instruction 
and  prayers  several  have  been  converted.  Her  house  can 
easily  accommodate  twenty,  all  in  one  room,  which  is 
made  comfortable  in  winter  with  carpet  and  stove,  and 
adorned  with  wreaths  of  evergreen  and  paper  flowers, 
and  in  summer  well  ventilated,  and  the  windows  and  yard 
filled  with  green-house  plants.  A  library  of  religious 
books  is  in  the  room,  and  pictures  are  hung  on  the  walls." 


eemaIvE  relatives  visit  the  hospitals. 

[Phoebe  Y.  Pember,  in  Hospital  Life.] 

There  was  no  means  of  keeping  the  relations  of  pa- 
tients from  coming  to  them.  There  had  been  rules  made  . 
to  meet  their  invasion,  but  it  was  impossible  to  carry  them 
out,  as  in  the  instance  of  a  wife  wanting  to  remain  with 
her  husband :  and,  besides,  even  the  better  class  of  people 
looked  upon  the  comfort  and  care  of  a  hospital  as  a  farce. 
They  resented  the  detention  there  of  men  who  in  many 
instances  could  lie  in  bed  and  point  to  their  homes  within 
sight,  and  argued  that  they  would  have  better  attention 
and  food  if  allowed  to  go  to  their  families.  That  mala- 
die  du  pays  called  commonly  nostalgia,  the  homesickness 
which  rings  the  heart  and  impoverishes  the  blood,  killed 
many  a  brave  soldier,  and  the  matron  who  day  by  day 
had  to  stand  helpless  and  powerless  by  the  bed  of  the  suf- 
ferer, knowing  that  a  week's  furlough  would  make  his 
heart  sing  with  joy  and  save  his  wife  from  widowhood, 
learned  the  most  bitter  lesson  of  endurance  that  could  be 
taught. 

My  hospital  was  now  entirely  composed  of  Virginians 
and  Marylanders,  and  the  nearness  to  the  homes  of  the 
former  entailed  upon  me  an  increase  of  care  in  the  shape 
of  wives,  sisters,  cousins,  aunts,  and  whole  families,  in- 
cluding the  historic  baby  at  the  breast.     They  came  in 


1 12  WOMDN  Of*  THE  CONEEDDRACY 

troops,  and,  hard  as  it  was  to  know  how  to  dispose  of 
them,  it  was  harder  to  send  them  away.  Sometimes  they 
brought  their  provisions  with  them,  but  not  often,  and 
even  when  they  did  there  was  no  place  for  them  to  cook 
their  food.  It  must  be  remembered  that  everything  was 
reduced  to  the  lowest  minimum,  even  fuel.  They  could 
not  remain  all  day  in  the  wards  with  men  around  them, 
and  if  even  they  were  so  willing,  the  restraint  on 
wounded,  restless  patients  who  wanted  to  throw  their 
limbs  about  with  freedom  during  the  hot  days  was  un- 
bearable. 

Generally  their  only  idea  of  kindness  was  giving  the 
sick  men  what  food  they  would  take  in  any  quantity  and 
of  every  quality,  and  in  the  furtherance  of  their  views 
they  were  pugnacious  in  the  extreme.  Whenever  rules 
circumscribed  their  plans  they  abused  the  government, 
then  the  hospitals,  and  then  myself.  Many  ludicrous  in- 
cidents happened  daily,  and  I  have  often  laughed  heartily 
at  seeing  the  harassed  ward-master  heading  away  a  perti- 
nacious female  who,  failing  to  get  past  him  at  the  door, 
would  try  the  three  others  perseveringly.  They  seemed 
to  think  it  a  pious  and  patriotic  duty  not  to  be  afraid  or 
ashamed  under  any  circumstances.  One  sultry  day  I 
found  a  whole  family,  accompanied  by  two  young  lady 
friends,  seated  around  a  sick  man's  bed.  As  I  passed 
through  six  hours  later,  they  held  the  same  position, 

"Had  not  you  all  better  go  home?"  I  said  good-na- 
turedly. 

"We  came  to  see  my  cousin,"  answered  one  very 
crossly.     "He  is  wounded." 

"But  you  have  been  with  him  all  morning  and  that  is  a 
restraint  upon  the  other  men.     Come  again  to-morrow." 

A  consultation  was  held,  but  when  it  ceased  no  move- 
ment was  made,  the  older  ones  only  lighting  their  pipes 
and  smoking  in  silence. 

"Will  you  come  back  to-morrow  and  go  now  ?" 

"No !  You  come  into  the  wards  when  you  please,  and 
so  will  we." 

"But  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so.     Besides,  I  always  ask 


WOMEN  OF'  The:  CONS'EIDE^RACY  II3 

permission  to  enter,  and  never  stay  longer  than  fifteen 
minutes  at  a  time." 

Another  unbroken  silence,  which  was  a  trial  to  any 
patience  left,  and  finding  no  movement  made,  I  handed 
some  clothing  to  the  patient  near. 

"Here  is  a  clean  shirt  and  drawers  for  you,  Mr, Wilson, 
Put  them  on  as  soon  as  I  get  out  of  the  ward," 

I  had  hardly  reached  my  kitchen,  when  the  whole  pro- 
cession, pipes  and  all,  passed  me  solemnly  and  angrily; 
but  for  many  days,  and  even  weeks,  there  was  no  ridding 
the  place  of  this  large  family  connection.  Their  sins 
were  manifold.  They  overfed  their  relative  who  was 
recovering  from  an  attack  of  typhoid  fever,  and  even 
defiantly  seized  the  food  for  the  purpose  from  under  my 
very  nose.  They  marched  on  me  en-masse  at  10  o'clock 
at  night,  with  a  requisition  from  the  boldest  for  sleeping 
quarters.  The  steward  was  summoned,  and  said  "he 
didn't  keep  a  hotel,"  so  in  a  weak  moment  of  pity  for  their 
desolate  state,  I  imprudently  housed  them  in  my  laundry. 
They  entrenched  themselves  there  for  six  days,  making 
predatory  incursions  into  my  kitchen  during  my  tempo- 
rary absences,  ignoring  Miss  G.  completely.  The  object 
of  their  solicitude  recovered  and  was  sent  to  the  field,  and 
finding  my  writs  of  ejectment  were  treated  with  contemp- 
tuous silence,  I  sought  an  explanation.  The  same  spokes- 
woman alluded  to  above  met  me  half-way.  She  said  a 
battle  was  imminent  she  had  heard,  and  she  had  deter- 
mined to  remain,  as  her  husband  might  be  wounded.  In 
the  ensuing  press  of  business  she  was  forgotten,  and 
strangely  enough,  her  husband  was  brought  in  with  a 
bullet  in  his  neck  the  following  week.  The  back  is  surely 
fitted  to  the  burden,  so  I  contented  myself  with  retaking 
my  laundry  and  letting  her  shift  for  herself,  while  a  whole 
month  slipped  away.  One  morning  my  arrival  was 
greeted  with  a  general  burst  of  merriment  from  every- 
body I  met,  white  and  black.  Experience  had  made  me 
sage,  and  my  first  question  was  a  true  shot,  right  in  the 
center. 

"Where  is  Mrs.  Daniels?" 
8 


1 14  WOMKN  O^  THS  C0N^EDI:RACY 

She  had  always  been  spokeswoman. 

"In  ward  G.    She  has  sent  for  you  two  or  three  times." 

"What  is  the  matter  now?" 

"  You  must  go  and  see." 

There  was  something  going  on  either  amusing  or 
amiss.  I  entered  ward  G,  and  walked  up  to  Daniel's  bed. 
One  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop. 

I  had  supposed,  up  to  this  time,  that  I  had  been  called 
upon  to  bear  and  suffer  every  annoyance  that  humanity 
and  the  state  of  the  country  could  inflict,  but  here  was 
something  most  unexpectedly  in  addition ;  for  lying  com- 
posedly on  her  husband's  cot  (for  he  had  relinquished  it 
for  the  occasion),  lay  Mrs.  Daniels  and  her  baby  (just 
two  hours  old). 

The  conversation  that  ensued  is  not  worth  repeating, 
being  more  of  the  nature  of  a  soliloquy.  The  poor  wretch 
had  ventured  into  a  bleak  and  comfortless  portion  of  the 
world,  and  its  inhuman  mother  had  not  provided  a  rag 
to  cover  it.  No  one  could  scold  her  at  such  a  time,  how- 
ever ardently  they  might  desire  to  do  so.  But  what  was 
to  be  done?  I  went  in  search  of  my  chief  surgeon,  and 
our  conversation  although  didactic  was  hardly  satis- 
factory on  the  subject. 

"Doctor,  Mrs.  Daniels  has  a  baby.  She  is  in  ward  G. 
What  shall  I  do  with  her?" 

"A  baby !    Ah,  indeed !    You  must  get  it  some  clothes." 

"What  must  I  do  with  her?" 

"Move  her  to  an  empty  ward  and  give  her  some  tea 
and  toast." 

This  was  offered,  but  Mrs.  Daniels  said  she  would 
wait  until  dinner  time  and  have  some  bacon  and  greens. 

The  baby  was  a  sore  annoyance.  The  ladies  of  Rich- 
mond made  up  a  wardrobe,  each  contributing  some 
article,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month,  Mrs.  D.,  the  child, 
and  a  basket  of  clothing  and  provisions  were  sent  to  the 
cars  with  a  return  ticket  to  her  home  in  western  Vir- 
Sfinia. 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONi^DDERACy  115 

SADIE  CURRY  AND  "CLARA  EISHER" 
[I.  L.  U.] 

In  later  years  of  the  war  a  great  many  of  the  wounded 
soldiers  were  brought  from  east  and  west  to  Augusta, 
Ga.  Immediately  the  people  from  the  country  on  both 
sides  of  the  Savannah  River  came  in  and  took  hundreds 
of  the  poor  fellows  to  their  homes  and  nursed  them  with 
every  possible  kindness.  Ten  miles  up  the  river,  on  the 
Carolina  side,  was  the  happy  little  village  of  Curryton, 
named  for  Mr.  Joel  Curry  and  his  father,  the  venerable 
Lewis  Curry.  Here  many  a  poor  fellow  from  distant 
States  was  taken  in  most  cordially  and  every  home  was 
a  temporary  hospital.  Among  those  nursed  at  Mr. 
Curry's,  whose  house  was  always  a  home  for  the  preacher, 
the  poor  man,  and  the  soldier,  was  Major  Crowder,  who 
suffered  long  from  a  painful  and  fatal  wound,  and  a 
stripling  boy  soldier  from  Kentucky,  Elijah  Ballard, 
whose  hip  wound  made  him  a  cripple  for  life. 

Miss  Sadie  Curry  nursed  both,  night  and  day,  as  she 
did  others,  when  necessary,  like  a  sister.  Her  zeal  never 
flagged,  and  her  strength  never  gave  way.  After  young 
Ballard,  who  was  totally  without  education,  became 
strong  enough,  she  taught  him  to  read  and  write,  and 
when  the  war  ended  he  went  home  prepared  to  be  a  book- 
keeper.    Others  received  like  kindness. 

But  this  noble  girl  had  from  the  beginning  of  the  war 
made  it  her  daily  business  to  look  after  the  families  of  the 
poorer  soldiers  in  the  neighborhood.  She  mounted  her 
horse  daily  and  made  her  round  of  angel  visits.  If  she 
found  anybody  sick  she  reported  to  the  kind  and  patriotic 
Dr.  Hugh  Shaw.  If  any  of  the  families  lacked  meal  or 
other  provisions,  it  was  reported  to  her  father,  who  would 
send  meal  from  his  mill  or  bacon  from  his  smoke-house. 

In  appreciation  of  her  heroic  work,  her  father  and  her 
gallant  brother-in-law.  Major  Robert  Meriwether,  who 
was  in  the  Virginia  army,  now  living  in  Brazil,  bought 
a  beautiful  Tennessee  riding  horse  and  gave  it  to  her. 
She  named  it  "Clara  Fisher,"  and  many  poor  hearts  in 
old  Edgefield  were  made  sad  and  many  tears  shed  in  the 


Il6  WOMI^N  01*  THI:  CONI^DDElRACY 

fall  of  1864,  when  Sadie  Curry  and  "Clara  Fisher"  moved 
to  southwest  Georgia. 

Bless  God,  there  were  many  Sadie  Currys  all  over  the 
South,  wherever  there  was  a  call  and  opportunity.  Miss 
Sadie  married  Dr.  H.  D.  Hudson  and  later  in  life  Rev. 
Dr.  Rogers,  of  Augusta,  where  she  died  a  few  years  ago. 


MANIA  J'OR  MARRIAG:^ 

[In  Diary  of  a  Refugee,  pages  329-330.] 

There  seems  to  be  a  perfect  mania  on  the  subject  of 
matrimony.  Some  of  the  churches  may  be  seen  open  and 
lighted  almost  every  night  for  bridals,  and  wherever  I 
turn  I  hear  of  marriages  in  prospect. 

"In   peace   l,ove   tunes   the   shepherd's   reed; 
In   war   he   mounts   the   warrior's  steed," 

sings  the  "Last  Minstrel"  of  the  Scottish  days  of 
romance;  and  I  do  not  think  that  our  modern  warriors 
are  a  whit  behind  them,  either  in  love  or  war.  My  only 
wonder  is,  that  they  find  time  for  love-making  amid  the 
storms  of  warfare.  Just  at  this  time,  however,  I  suppose 
our  valiant  knights  and  ladies  fair  are  taking  advantage 
of  the  short  respite,  caused  by  alternate  snows  and  sun- 
shine of  our  variable  climate  having  made  the  roads  im- 
passable to  Grant's  artillery  and  baggage- wagons. 

A  soldier  in  our  hospital  called  to  me  as  I  passed  his 

bed  the  other  day,  "I  say,  Mrs.  ,  when  do  you 

think  my  wound  will  be  well  enough  for  me  to  go  to  the 
country  ?" 

"Before  very  long,  I  hope." 

"But  what  does  the  doctor  say,  for  I  am  mighty 
anxious  to  go  ?" 

I  looked  at  his  disabled  limb,  and  talked  to  him  hope- 
fully of  his  being  able  to  enjoy  country  air  in  a  short 
time. 

"Well,  try  to  get  me  up,  for,  you  see,  it  ain't  the 
country  air  I'm  after,  but  I  wants  to  get  married,  and  the 


WOMEN  OF  THE)  CONPE^DKRACY  II7 

lady  don't  know  that  I  am  wounded,  and  maybe  she'll 
think  I  don't  want  to  come." 

"Ah,"  said  I,  "but  you  must  show  her  your  scars,  and 
if  she  is  a  girl  worth  having  she  will  love  you  all  the 
better  for  having  bled  for  your  country,  and  you  must 
tell  her  that — 

"  'It  is  always  the  heart  that  is  bravest  in  war 
That  is   fondest   and   truest  in   love.'  " 

He  looked  perfectly  delighted  with  the  idea;  and  as  I 
passed  him  again  he  called  out,  "Lady,  please  stop  a  min- 
ute and  tell  me  the  verse  over  again,  for,  you  see,  when 
I  do  get  there,  if  she  is  affronted,  I  wants  to  give  her  the 
prettiest  excuse  I  can,  and  I  think  that  verse  is  beautiful." 


GOVERNMENT  CLERKSHIPS 
[In  Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  174-175.]  • 

From  the  Treasury  Department,  the  employment  of 
female  clerks  extended  to  various  offices  in  the  War  De- 
partment, the  Post  Office  Department,  and  indeed  every 
branch  of  business  connected  with  the  government.  They 
were  all  found  efficient  and  useful.  By  this  means  many 
young  men  could  be  sent  into  the  ranks,  and  by  testimony 
of  the  chiefs  of  bureaus,  the  work  left  for  the  women  was 
better  done;  for  they  were  more  conscientious  in  their 
duties  than  the  more  self-satisfied,  but  not  better  qualified, 
male  attaches  of  the  government  offices.  The  experiment 
of  placing  women  in  government  clerkships  proved  emi- 
nently successful,  and  grew  to  be  extremely  popular  under 
the  Confederate  government. 

Many  a  young  girl  remembers  with  gratitude  the 
kindly  encouragement  of  our  Adjutant-General  Cooper, 
our  chief  of  ordnance.  Colonel  Gorgas,  or  the  first  auditor 
of  the  Confederate  treasury,  Judge  Boiling  Baker,  or 
Postmaster-General  Reagan,  and  various  other  officials, 
of  whom  their  necessities  drove  them  to  seek  employment. 
The  most  high-born  ladies  of  the  land  filled  these  places 


Il8  WOM^N  OF  THK  CONIi'i:DE;RACY 

as  well  as  the  humble  poor ;  but  none  could  obtain  employ- 
ment under  the  government  who  could  not  furnish  testi- 
monials of  intelligence  and  superior  moral  worth. 


SCHOOI^S  IN  WAR  TlMi;S 
[In  Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  188-189.] 

As  the  war  went  on  a  marked  change  was  made  in  the 
educational  interests  of  the  South.  For  a  certain  number 
of  pupils,  the  teachers  of  schools  were  exempt  from 
military  duty.  To  their  credit  be  it  recorded  that  few, 
comparatively,  availed  themselves  of  this  exception,  and 
the  care  of  instructing  the  youth  devolved,  with  other 
added  responsibilities,  upon  the  women  of  the  country. 
Only  the  boys  under  conscript  age  were  found  in  the 
schools ;  all  older  were  made  necessary  in  the  field  or  .in 
some  department  of  government  service,  unless  physical 
inability  prevented  them  from  falling  under  the  require- 
ments of  the  law.  Many  of  our  colleges  for  males 
suspended  operation,  and  at  the  most  important  period 
in  the  course  of  their  education  our  youths  were  instructed 
in  the  sterner  lessons  of  military  service. 


HUMANITY  IN  THB  HOSPITAI^S 
[Richmond  Enquirer,  June  6,  1862.] 

In  our  visits  to  the  various  hospitals,  we  cannot  but 
remark,  admire,  and  commend  the  kindly  harmony  and 
sweet-tempered  familiarity  which  mark  the  intercourse 
of  the  ladies  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  the  care  of 
the  sick  and  the  wounded.  There  is  a  unity  in  the  actions 
and  solicitude  of  all  which  only  a  unity  of  motive  could 
induce.  The  amiable  and  unpretending  sister  of  mercy, 
the  earnest  bright-eyed  Jewish  girl  and  the  womanly, 
gentle,  and  energetic  Protestant,  mingle  their  labors  with 
a  freedom  and  geniality  which  would  teach  the  most  prej- 
udiced zealot  a  lesson  that  would  never  be  forgotten. 


WOMEN  OP*  The:  CONf'EDERACY  HQ 

The  necessity  of  charity,  once  demonstrated,  teaches  us 
that  we  are  one  kindred,  after  all,  and  whatever  differ- 
ences may  exist  in  the  peculiar  tenets  of  the  many,  all 
hearts  are  alike  open  to  the  same  impulses,  and  the  couch 
of  suffering  at  once  commands  their  sympathy  and  re- 
minds them  of  an  identity  of  hope  and  a  common  fate. 


MRS.  DAVIS  AND  THE  FEDERAL  PRISONER 
[Augusta,   Ga.,   Constitutionalist.'] 

A  clerical  friend  of  ours  in  passing  through  one  of 
our  streets  a  few  days  since,  to  perform  a  ministerial 
duty — attending  to  the  sick  and  wounded  in  the  hos- 
pitals— encountered  a  stranger,  who  accosted  him  thus : 
"My  friend,  can  you  tell  m^  if  Mrs.  Jeff  Davis  is  in  the 
city  of  Augusta?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  our  friend.     "She  is  not." 

"Well,  sir,"  replied  the  stranger,  "you  may  be  sur- 
prised at  my  asking  such  a  question,  and  more  particu- 
larly so  when  I  inform  you  that  I  am  a  discharged 
United  States  soldier.  But  (and  here  he  evinced  great 
feeling),  sir,  that  lady  has  performed  acts  of  kindness 
to  me  which  I  can  never  forget.  When  serving  in  the 
valley  of  Virginia,  battling  for  the  Union,  I  received  a 
severe  and  dangerous  wound.  At  the  same  time  I  was 
taken  prisoner  and  conveyed  to  Richmond,  where  I  re- 
ceived such  kindness  and  attention  from  Mrs.  Davis  that 
I  can  never  forget  her;  and,  now  that  I  am  discharged 
from  the  army  and  at  work  in  this  city,  and  understand- 
ing that  the  lady  was  here,  I  wish  to  call  upon  her,  re- 
new my  expressions  of  gratitude  to  her,  and  offer  to 
share  with  her,  should  she  unfortunately  need  it,  the  last 
cent  I  have  in  the  world." 

Can  it  be  truly  charged  on  a  nation  that  it  was  wanton- 
ly, criminally  cruel,  when  a  generous  foe  bears  testimony 
to  the  mercy,  kindness,  and  lowly  service  of  the  highest 
lady  of  the  land? 


I20  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

SOCKS  THAT  NEVER  WORE  OUT 

General  Gordon  tells  of  a  simple-hearted  country  Con- 
federate woman  who  gave  a  striking  idea  of  the  straits 
to  which  our  people  were  reduced  later  in  the  war.  She 
explained  that  her  son's  only  pair  of  socks  did  not  wear 
out,  because,  said  she:  "When  the  feet  of  the  socks  get 
full  of  holes,  I  just  knit  new  feet  to  the  tops,  and  when 
the  tops  wear  out  I  just  knit  new  tops  to  the  feet," 


BURIAE  OE  AUNT  MATIU)A 
[Mrs.  R.  A.  Pryor's  Reminiscences.] 

This  precise  type  of  a  Virginia  plantation  will  never 
appear  again,  I  imagine.  I  wish  I  could  describe  a  plan- 
tation wedding  as  I  saw  it  tfiat  summer.  But  a  funeral 
of  one  of  the  old  servants  was  peculiarly  interesting  to 
me.  "Aunt  Matilda"  had  been  much  loved,  and  when 
she  found  herself  dying  she  had  requested  that  the  mis- 
tress and  little  children  should  attend  her  funeral. 

"I  ain'  been  much  to  church,"  she  urged.  "I  couldn't 
leave  my  babies.  I  ain'  had  dat  shoutin'  an'  hollerin' 
religion,  but  I  gwine  to  heaven  jes'  de  same" — a  fact  of 
which  nobody  who  knew  Aunt  Matilda  could  have  the 
smallest  doubt. 

We  had  a  long,  warm  walk  behind  hundreds  of  negroes, 
following  the  rude  coffin  in  slow  procession  through  the 
woods,  singing  antiphonally  as  they  went,  one  of  those 
strange,  weird  hymns  not  to  be  caught  by  any  Anglo- 
Saxon  voice. 

It  was  a  beautiful  and  touching  scene,  and  at  the  grave 
I  longed  for  an  artist  (we  had  no  kodaks  then)  to  per- 
petuate the  picture.  The  level  rays  of  the  sun  were  fil-- 
tered  through  the  green  leaves  of  the  forest,  and  fell 
gently  on  the  dusky  pathetic  faces,  and  on  the  simple 
coffin  surrounded  by  orphan  children  and  relatives,  very 
dignified  and  quiet  in  their  grief. 

The  spiritual  patriarch  of  the  plantation  presided.  Old 
Uncle  Abel  said : 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  121 

"I  ain'  gwine  keep  you  all  long.  'Tain'  no  use.  We 
can't  do  nothin'  for  Sis'  Tildy.  All  is  done  fer  her,  an' 
she  done  preach  her  own  fune'al  sermon.  Her  name  was 
on  dis  church  book  here,  but  dat  warn'  nothin' ;  no  doubt 
'twas  on  de  Lamb  book,  too. 

"Now,  whiles  dey  fillin'  up  her  grave,  I'd  like  you  all 
to  sing  a  hymn  Sis'  Tildy  uster  love,  but  you  all  know  I. 
bline  in  one  eye,  an'  I  dunno  as  any  o'  you  all  ken  do  it" — 
and  the  first  thing  I  knew,  the  old  man  had  passed  his 
well-worn  book  to  me,  and  there  I  stood  at  the  foot  of 
the  grave,  "lining  out"  : 

"  'Asleep    in    Jesus,   blessed    sleep, 

From  which  none  ever  wake  to  weep.'  " 

words  of  immortal  comfort  to  the  great  throng  of  negro 
mourners  who  caught  it  up  line  after  line,  on  an  air  of 
their  own,  full  of  tears  and  tenderness, — a  strange,  weird 
tune  no  white  person's  voice  could  ever  follow. 


"lEIvEGANT  PAIR  OE  HANDS" 
[Phoebe  Y.  Pember.] 

A  large  number  of  the  surgeons  were  absent,  and  the 
few  left  would  not  be  able  to  attend  to  all  the  wounds  at 
that  late  hour  of  the  night.  I  proposed  in  reply  that  the 
convalescent  men  should  be  placed  on  the  floor  on  blankets 
or  bed-sacks  filled  with  straw,  and  the  wounded  take 
their  place,  and,  purposely  construing  his  silence  into 
consent,  gave  the  necessary  orders,  eagerly  offering  my 
services  to  dress  simple  wounds,  and  extolling  the 
strength  of  my  nerves.  He  let  me  have  my  way  (may 
his  ways  be  of  pleasantness  and  his  paths  of  peace),  and 
so,  giving  Miss  G.  orders  to  make  an  unlimited  supply 
of  coffee,  tea,  and  stimulants,  armed  with  lint,  bandages, 
castile  soap,  and  a  basin  of  warm  water,  I  made  my  first 
essay  in  the  surgical  line.  I  had  been  spectator  often 
enough  to  be  skilful.  The  first  object  that  needed  my 
care  was  an  Irishman.  He  was  seated  upon  a  bed  with 
his  hands  crossed,  wounded  in  both  arms  by  the  same 


122  woMEiN  0'^  The;  CONF'EJDEJRACY 

bullet.  The  blood  was  soon  washed  away,  wet  lint  ap- 
plied, and  no  bones  being  broken,  the  bandages  easily  ar- 
ranged. 

"I  hope  that  I  have  not  hurt  you  much,"  I  said  with 
some  trepidation.  "These  are  the  first  wounds  that  I 
have  ever  dressed." 

"Sure,  they  be  the  most  illegant  pair  of  hands  that  ever 
touched  me,  and  the  lightest,"  he  gallantly  answered. 
"And  I  am  all  right  now." 


the:  gun-boat  "Richmond" 

[Scharf's  Confederate  Navy.] 

The  "Ladies'  Defence  Association"  was  then  formed 
at  Richmond,  with  Mrs.  Maria  G.  Clopton,  president; 
Mrs.  General  Henningsen,  vice-president;  Mrs.  R.  H. 
Maury,  treasurer,  and  Mrs.  John  Adams  Smith,  secre- 
tary. At  its  meeting,  on  April  9th,  an  address,  prepared 
by  Captain  J.  S.  Maury,  was  read  by  Rev.  Dr.  Doggett. 
In  this  address  it  was  eloquently  stated  that  the  first  ef- 
forts of  the  association  would  be  "directed  to  the  build- 
ing and  putting  afloat  in  the  waters  of  the  James  River 
a  steam  man-of-war,  clad  in  shot-proof  armor;  her 
panoply  to  be  after  the  manner  of  that  gallant  ship,  the 
noble  Virginia."  Committees  were  appointed  to  solicit 
subscriptions,  and  so  much  encouragement  was  received 
that  the  managers  of  the  association  called  upon  Presi- 
dent Davis  for  sanction  of  its  purpose,  which  he  gladly 
gave,  and  it  was  announced  that  the  keel  of  the  vessel 
would  be  laid  in  a  few  days ;  that  Commander  Farrand 
would  be  in  charge  of  the  work,  and  that  he  would  be 
assisted  by  Ship-builder  Graves. 

Words  can  but  inadequately  represent  the  energy  with 
which  the  women  of  Virginia  undertook  this  work,  or 
the  sacrifices  which  they  made  to  complete  it.  That  their 
jewels  and  their  household  plate,  heirlooms,  in  many  in- 
stances, that  had  been  handed  down  from  generation  to 
generation  and  were  the  embodiments  of  ancestral  rank 


wome;n  of  the  confe:deracy  123 

and  tradition,  were  freely  given  up,  is  known.  "Vir- 
ginia," said  they  in  their  appeal,  "when  she  sent  her  sons 
into  this  war,  gave  up  her  jewels  to  it.  Let  not  her 
daughters  hold  back.  Mothers,  wives,  sisters !  what  are 
your  ornaments  of  silver  and  gold  in  decoration,  when  by 
dedicating  them  to  a  cause  like  this,  you  may  in  times 
like  these  strengthen  the  hand  or  nerve  the  arm,  or  give 
comfort  to  the  heart  that  beats  and  strikes  in  your  de- 
fence!    Send  them  to  us." 

The  organization,  moreover,  did  not  confine  itself  to 
urging  upon  the  women  of  the  State  that  this  was  par- 
ticularly their  contribution  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
Confederacy.  "Iron  railings,"  the  address  continued, 
"old  and  new,  scrap-iron  about  the  house,  broken  plough- 
shares about  the  farm,  and  iron  in  any  shape,  though 
given  in  quantities  ever  so  small,  will  be  thankfully  re- 
ceived if  delivered  at  the  Tredegar  Works,  where  it  may 
be  put  into  the  furnace,  reduced,  and  wrought  into  shape 
or  turned  into  shot  and  shell."  A  friendly  invasion  of 
the  tobacco  factories  was  made  by  a  committee  of  ladies, 
consisting  of  Mrs.  Brooke  Gwathney,  Mrs.  B.  Smith,  and 
Mrs.  George  T.  Brooker,  and  the  owners  cheerfully  broke 
up  much  of  their  machinery  that  was  available  for  the 
specified  purpose.  Mrs.  R.  H.  Maury,  treasurer  of  the 
association,  took  charge  of  the  contributions  in  money, 
plate,  and  jewelry;  the  materials  and  tools  were  sent  to 
Commodore  Farrand,  and  an  agent,  S.  D.  Hicks,  was 
appointed  to  receive  the  contributions  of  grain,  country 
produce,  etc.,  that  were  sent  in  by  Virginia  farmers  to  be 
converted  into  cash.  By  the  end  of  April  the  construc- 
tion had  reached  an  advanced  stage ;  President  Davis  and 
Secretary  Mallory  had  congratulated  the  Ladies'  Asso- 
ciation upon  the  assured  success  of  its  self-allotted  task, 
and  by  the  sale  of  articles  donated  to  a  public  bazaar  or 
fair,  almost  a  sufficient  sum  to  complete  the  ship  was  se- 
cured. 

The  Richmond  was  completed  in  July,  1862,  and  al- 
though detailed  descriptions  are  lacking  all  mention  made 


124  WOMljN  OS*  THK  CONFKDEIRACY 

of  her  is  unanimous  that  she  was  an  excellent  ship  of  her 
type.  Captain  Parker  says  that  "she  was  a  fine  vessel, 
built  on  the  plan  of  the  Virginia." 

Note. — Mrs.  General  Henningsen  received  from  New  Orleans 
boxes  containing  articles  to  be  sold  for  contribution  to  building  the 
Richmond.  Among  the  articles  were  two  beautiful  vases,  which 
were  bought  by  a  gentleman  of  Richmond  and  are  now  in  the  pos- 
session of  his  family.  The  Richmond  was  destroyed  on  the  evacu- 
ation of  the  Capital  City. — ^J.  L.  U. 


CAPTAIN   SALrl^Y  TOMPKINS 
[By  J.  L,.  Underwood.] 

Southern  women  have  cared  little  for  public  honors 
nor  have  they  courted  masculine  titles.  But  a  recent  num- 
ber of  the  Richmond  Times-Dispatch  recalls  the  pleasant 
bit  of  history  that  in  the  case  of  Miss  Sallie  Tompkins  a 
remarkable  honor  was  deservedly  conferred  upon  a 
worthy  Virginia  girl  by  the  Confederate  authorities. 

While  yet  a  very  young  woman  Miss  Tompkins  used 
her  ample  means  to  establish  in  Richmond  a  private  hos- 
pital for  Confederate  soldiers.  She  not  only  provided 
for  its  support  at  her  own  expense,  but  devoted  her  time 
to  the  work  of  nursing  the  patients. 

The  wounded  were  brought  into  the  city  by  the  hun- 
dreds and  there  was  hardly  a  private  house  without  its 
quota  of  sick  and  wounded.  Quite  a  number  of  private 
hospitals  were  established  but,  unlike  Miss  Tompkins's 
splendid  institution,  charges  were  made  by  some  of  them 
for  services  rendered.  In  course  of  time  abuses  grew 
with  the  system,  and  General  Lee  ordered  that  they  all  be 
closed — all  except  the  hospital  of  Miss  Tompkins.  This 
was  recognized  as  too  helpful  to  the  Confederate  cause 
to  be  abolished. 

In  order  to  preserve  it  it  had  to  be  brought  under  gov- 
ernment control,  and  to  do  this  General  Lee  ordered  a 
commission  as  captain  in  the  Confederate  army  to  be  is- 
sued to  Miss  Sallie  Tompkins.     Though  a  government 


WOMEN  01^  the:  con^e;deracy  125 

hospital  from  that  time  on,  Captain  Tompkins  conducted 
it  as  before,  paying  its  expenses  out  of  her  private  purse. 
The  veterans  are  proud  of  her  record,  and  a  movement 
is  now  on  foot  among  them  to  place  Captain  Tompkins  in 
a  position  of  independence  as  long  as  she  lives. 


THK  ANGElv  OF  THE  HOSPlTAIv 
[From  the  Gray  Jacket,  pages  143-146.] 

'Twas  nightfall  in  the  hospital.     The  day, 

As  though  its  eyes  were  dimmed  with  bloody  rain 

From  the  red  clouds  of  war,  had  quenched  its  light. 

And  in  its  stead  some  pale,  sepulchral  lamps 

Shed  their  dim  lustre  in  the  halls  of  pain, 

And  flitted  mystic  shadows  o'er  the  walls. 

No  more  the  cry  of  "Charge!     On,  soldiers,  on!" 

Stirred  the  thick  billows  of  the  sulphurous  air; 

But  the  deep  moan  of  human  agony. 

From  the  pale  lips  quivering  as  they  strove  in  vain 

To  smother  mortal  pain,  appalled  the  ear, 

And  made  the  life-blood  curdle  in  the  heart. 

Nor  flag,  nor  bayonet,  nor  plume,  nor  lance. 

Nor  burnished  gun,  nor  clarion  call,  nor  drum. 

Displayed  the  pomp  of  battle;     but  instead 

The  tourniquet,  the  scalpel,  and  the  draught. 

The  bandage,  and  the  splint  were  strewn  around — ■ 

Dumb  symbols,  telling  more  than  tongues  could  speak 

The  awful  shadows  of  the  fiend  of  war. 

Look!     lyook!     What  gentle  form  with  cautious  step 

Passes  from  couch  to  couch  as  silently 

As  yon  faint  shadows  flickering  on  the  walls. 

And,  bending  o'er  the  gasping  sufferer's  head. 

Cools  his  flushed  forehead  with  the  icy  bath. 

From  her  own  tender  hand,  or  pours  the  cup 

Whose  cordial  powers  can  quench  the  inward  flame 

That  burns  his  heart  to  ashes,  or  with  voice 

As  tender  as  a  mother's  to  her  babe, 

Pours  pious  consolation  in  his  ear. 

She  came  to  one  long  used  in  war's  rude  scenes — - 

A  soldier  from  his  youth,  grown  gray  in  arms. 

Now    pierced   with    mortal    wounds.     Untutored,    rough, 

Though  brave  and  true,  imcared  for  by  the  world. 

His  life  had  passed  without  a  friendly  word, 

Which  timely  spoken  to  his  willing  ear, 

Had   wakened   God-like  hopes,   and   filled  his  heart 

With  the  unfading  bloom  of  sacred  truth. 

Reside  his  couch  she  stood,  and  read  the  page 

Of  heavenly  wisdom  and  the  law  of  love. 

And  bade  him  follow  the  triumphant  chief 

Who  bears  the  unconquered  banner  of  the  cross. 

The  veteran  heard  with  tears  and  grateful  smile. 

Like  a  long-frozen  fount  whose  ice  is  touched 

By  the  restless  sun,  and  melts  away. 

And,  fixing  his  last  gaze  on  her  and  heaven, 

Went  to  the  Judge  in  penitential  prayer. 


126  WOME^N  OF  THE  CONEEdDRACY 

She  passed  to  one,  in  manhood's  blooming  prime, 
Lately  the  glory  of  the  martial  field, 
But  now,  sore-scathed  by  the  fierce  shock  of  arms, 
Like  a  tall  pine  shattered  by  the  lightning's  stroke. 
Prostrate  he  lay,  and  felt  the  pangs  of  death, 
And  saw  its  thickening  damps  obscure  the  light 
Which   make  our  world  so  beautiful.     Yet  those 
He  heeded  not.     His  anxious  thoughts  had  flown 
O'er  rivers  and  illimitable  woods. 
To  his  fair  cottage  in  the  Western  wilds. 
Where  his  young  bride  and  prattling  little  ones — 
Poor  hapless  little  ones,  chafed  by  the  wolf  of  war- 
Watched  for  the  coming  of  the  absent  one 
In   utter   desolation's  bitterness. 
O,  agonizing  thought!    which  smote  his  heart 
With  sharper  anguish  than  the  sabre's  point. 
The   angel   came   with   sympathetic  voice, 
And  whispered  in  his  ear:     "Our  God  will  be 
A  husband  to  the  widow,  and  embrace 
The  orphan  tenderly  within  his  arms ; 
For  human  sorrow  never  cries  in  vain 
To  His  compassionate  ear."     The  dying  man 
Drank  in  her  words  with  rapture;    cheering  hope 
Shone  like  a  rainbow  in  his  tearful  eyes. 
And  arched  his  cloud  of  sorrow,  while  he  gave 
The  dearest  earthly  treasures  of  his  heart. 
In  resignation  to  the  care  of  God. 

A  fair  man-boy  of  fifteen  summers  tossed 

His  wasted  limbs  upon  a  cheerless  couch. 

Ah!    how  unlike  the  downy  bed  prepared 

By  his  fond  mother's  love,  whose  tireless  hands 

No  comforts  for  her  only  offspring  spared 

From  earliest  childhood,  when  the  sweet  babe  slept, 

Soft — nestling  in  her  bosom  all  the  night. 

Like  a  half-blown  lily  sleeping  on  the  heart 

Of  swelling  summer  wave,  till  that  sad  day 

He  left  the  untold  treasure  of  her  love 

To  seek  the  rude  companionship  of  war. 

The  fiery  fever  struck  his  swelling  brain 

With  raving  madness,  and  the  big  veins  throbbed 

A  death-knell  on  his  temples,  and  his  breath 

Was  hot  and  quick,  as  is  the  panting  deer's. 

Stretched  by  the  Indian's  arrow  on  the  plain. 

"Mother!     Oh,  mother!"    oft  his  faltering  tongue 

Shrieked  to  the  cold,  bare  wall,  which  echoed  back 

His  wailing  in  the  mocking  of  despair. 

Oh!    angel  nurse,  what  sorrow  wrung  thy  heart 

For  the  young  sufferer's  grief!      Sne  knelt  beside 

The  dying  lad,  and  smoothed  his  tangled  locks 

Back  from  his  aching  brow,  and  wept  and  prayed 

With  all  a  woman's  tenderness  and  love. 

That  the  good  Shepherd  would  receive  this  lamb. 

Far  wandering  from  the  dear  maternal  fold. 

And  shelter  him  in  His  all-circling  arms, 

In  the  green  valleys  of  immortal  rest. 

And  so  the  angel  passed  from  scene  to  scene 
Of  human  suffering,  like  that  blessed  One, 
Himself  the  man  of  sorrows  and  of  grief. 
Who  came  to  earth  to  teach  the  law  of  love. 
And  pour  sweet  balm  upon  the  mourner's  heart. 
And  raise  the  fallen  and  restore  the  lost. 
Bright  vision  of  my  dreams!    thy  light  shall  shine 
Through  all  the  darkness  of  this  weary  world- 
Its    selfishness,   its   coolness,    and   its   sin. 
Pure  as  the  holy  evening  star  of  love. 
The  brightest  planet  in  the  host  of  heaven. 


CHAPTER  III 


thi;ir  trials 


OlyD  MAIDS 
[J.  L.  Underwood.] 

This  would  be  a  dark  world  without  old  maids — God 
bless  them!  No  one  can  measure  their  usefulness. 
Many  a  one  of  them  has  never  married  because  she  has 
never  found  a  man  good  enough  for  her.  The  saddest 
mourners  the  world  ever  saw  were  some  of  our  Southern 
girls  whose  hearts  and  hopes  were  buried  in  a  soldier's 
grave  in  Virginia  or  the  Far  West.  For  four  years  the 
daughters  of  the  South  waited  for  their  lovers,  and  alas ! 
many  waited  in  a  life  widowhood  of  unutterable  sorrow. 
After  the  seven  days'  battles  in  front  of  Richmond  a 
horseman  rode  up  to  the  door  of  one  of  the  houses  on 

street  in  Richmond  and  cried  out  to  an  anxious 

mother :  "Your  son  is  safe,  but  Captain is  killed." 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  a  fair  young  girl  was 
sitting.  She  was  the  betrothed  of  the  ill-fated  captain, 
and  heard  the  crushing  announcement.  That's  the  way 
war  made  so  many  Southern  girls  widows  without  com- 
ing to  the  marriage  altar. 

"It  matters  little  now,  Lorena; 

The  past  is  the  eternal  past. 
Our  heads  will  soon  lie  low,  Lorena; 

Life's  tide   is   ebbing  out   so   fast, 
But,  there's   a  future — oh,   thank   God — 

Of  life  this  is  so  small  a  part; 
'Tis  dust  to  dust  beneath  the  sod. 

But  there — up  there, — 'tis  heart  to  heart." 

The  writer  is  so  partial  to  the  old  maids  of  the  Con- 
federacy that  he  is  afraid  of  a  charge  of  extravagance 
were  he  to  say  anything  more.  But  the  author  of  this 
book  is  not  the  only  one  to  admire  and  love  them.  Hear 
what  another  old  Confederate  soldier  says  in  the  follow- 
ing letter  in  the  Atlanta  Journal: 


128  woM^N  OP  The;  coni^eiddracy 

Sugar  Vai,i,ey,  Ga. 
Dear  Miss  Thomas: 

Will  you  permit  an  old  Confederate  soldier,  who  has 
nearly  reached  his  three-score  and  ten,  to  occupy  a  seat 
while  he  says  a  few  words  ? 

The  old  maids  of  to-day  were  young  girls  in  my  youth- 
ful days.  They  were  once  young  and  happy  and  looked 
forward  with  bright  hopes  to  the  future,  while  the 
flowers  opened  as  pretty,  the  birds  sung  as  sweetly,  and 
the  sun  shone  as  brightly  as  it  does  to  the  young  girls  of 
to-day.  They  had  sweethearts ;  they  loved  and  were 
loved  in  return;  they  had  pleasant  dreams  of  the  com- 
ing future  to  be  passed  in  their  own  happy  homes  sur- 
rounded by  husband  and  children.  But,  alas!  the  dark 
war  clouds  lowered  above  the  horizon  and  all  their 
bright  dreams  of  the  future  were  overcast  with  gloom. 
They  loved  with  a  pure  and  unselfish  devotion,  but  they 
loved  their  country  best.  The  young  men  of  the  sixties 
were  the  first  to  respond  to  their  country's  call  and 
marched  away  to  the  front,  to  undergo  the  hardships  and 
dangers  of  a  soldier's  life. 

Now,  can  you  imagine  the  pangs  that  rent  the  maiden's 
breast  as  she  bid  farewell,  maybe  for  the  last  time  this 
side  of  eternity,  to  the  one  who  was  dearer  than  her  own 
heart's  blood,  as  she  watched  his  manly  form  clothed  in 
his  uniform  of  gray  disappear  in  the  distance  ?  She  tried 
to  be  brave  when  she  bade  him  go  and  fight  the  battles 
of  his  country.  She  remained  at  home  and  prayed  to  an 
all-wise  and  merciful  God  to  spare  him  amidst  the  storm 
of  iron  and  lead,  but  her  heart  seemed  rent  in  twain  and 
all  of  her  bright  hopes  for  the  future  seemed  turned  to 
ashes.  The  weary  days  and  months  passed  in  dread  sus- 
pense. 

Now  and  then  a  letter  from  the  front  revived  her 
drooping  spirits,  as  her  soldier  boy  told  of  his  many 
escapes  amid  the  charging  columns  and  roar  of  battle. 
After  many  months  or  maybe  years  she  received  the  sad 
tidings  that  her  gallant  soldier  was  no  more;  his  gal- 
lant spirit  had  flashed  out  with  the  guns,  and  his  manly 
form,  wrapped  in  a  soldier's  blanket,  had  been  consigned 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  I29 

to  an  unmarked  grave  far  away  from  home  and  loved 
ones.  The  last  rays  of  hope  fled,  and  she  resigned  her- 
self to  her  sad  and  lonely  fate.  They  were  true  to  their 
country  in  its  sore  distress,  true  to  their  heroes  wearing 
the  gray,  and  true  to  their  God  who  doeth  all  things 
well.  Could  any  one  lead  a  more  consecrated  life? 
Now,  let  us,  instead  of  deriding,  cast  the  veil  of  charity 
over  their  desolate  lives. 

The  once  smooth  cheek  is  furrowed  with  the  wrinkles 
of  time,  the  glossy  braids  have  whitened  with  the  snows 
of  winter,  the  once  graceful  form  is  bending  under  the 
weight  of  years,  while  the  bright  eyes  have  grown  dim 
watching,  not  for  the  soldier  in  gray,  but  for  the  sum- 
mons that  calls  her  to  meet  him  on  that  bright  and  beau- 
tiful shore,  there  to  be  with  loved  ones  who  have  gone 
before,  and  receive  the  reward  of  "Well  done,  thou  good 
and  faithful  servant."  Soon  the  last  one  of  those 
patriotic  women  of  the  sixties  will  have  passed  over  the 
river,  and  their  like  may  never  be  seen  again,  but  their 
love  of  home  and  country  will  be  handed  down  to  gen- 
erations yet  unknown. 

With  best  wishes  for  the  household, 

W.  H.  Andrews. 


A  mother's  letter 

[From  a  dying  soldier  boy.] 

The  Alabama  papers  in  1863  published  the  following 
letter  from  Private  John  Moseley,  a  youth  who  gave  up 
his  life  at  Gettysburg : 

BATTEEE1E1.D,  Gettysburg,  Pa., 

July  4,  1863. 
Dear  Mother  : 

I  am  here,  prisoner  of  war  and  mortally  wounded.  I 
can  live  but  a  few  hours  more  at  furthest.  I  was  shot 
fifty  yards  from  the  enemy's  line.  They  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly kind  to  me.  I  have  no  doubt  as  to  the  final 
result  of  this  battle,  and  I  hope  I  may  live  long  enough  to 
9 


130  WOMEN  01^  THU  CONI'I^DERACY 

hear  the  shouts  of  victory  before  I  die.  I  am  very  weak. 
Do  not  mourn  my  loss.  I  had  hoped  to  have  been  spared, 
but  a  righteous  God  has  ordered  it  otherwise,  and  I  feel 
prepared  to  trust  my  case  in  His  hands.  Farewell  to  you 
all.  Pray  that  God  may  receive  my  soul. 
Your  unfortunate  son, 

John. 


TOM  AND  HIS  YOUNG  MASTER 
[In  Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  178-179.] 

A  young  soldier  from  Georgia  brought  with  him  to 
the  war  in  Virginia  a  young  man  who  had  been  brought 
up  with  him  on  his  father's  plantation.  On  leaving  his 
home  with  his  regiment,  the  mother  of  the  young  soldier 
said  to  his  negro  slave:  "Now,  Tom,  I  commit  your 
master  Jemmy  into  your  keeping.  Don't  let  him  suffer 
for  anything  with  which  you  can  supply  him.  If  he  is 
sick,  nurse  him  well,  my  boy;  and  if  he  dies,  bring  his 
body  home  to  me;  if  wounded,  take  care  of  him;  and 
oh !  if  he  is  killed  in  battle,  don't  let  him  be  buried  on  the 
field,  but  secure  his  body  for  me,  and  bring  him  home  to 
be  buried!"  The  negro  faithfully  promised  his  mistress 
that  all  her  wishes  should  be  attended  to,  and  came  on 
to  the  seat  of  war  charged  with  the  grave  responsibility 
placed  upon  him.    • 

In  one  of  the  battles  around  Richmond  the  negro  saw 
his  young  master  when  he  entered  the  fight,  and  saw  him 
when  he  fell,  but  no  more  of  him.  The  battle  became 
fierce,  the  dust  and  smoke  so  dense  that  the  company  to 
which  he  was  attached,  wholly  enveloped  in  the  cloud, 
was  hidden  from  the  sight  of  the  negro,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  battle  was  over  that  Tom  could  seek  for  his 
)'-oung  master.  He  found  him  in  a  heap  of  slain.  Re- 
moving the  mangled  remains,  torn  frightfully  by  a  piece 
of  shell,  he  conveyed  them  to  an  empty  house,  where  he 
laid  them  out  in  the  most  decent  order  he  could,  and 
securing  the  few  valuables  found  on  his  person,  he  sought 
a  conveyance  to  carry  the  body  to  Richmond.     Ambu- 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONFEDERACY  I3I 

lances  were  in  too  great  requisition  for  those  whose  lives 
were  not  extinct  to  permit  the  body  of  a  dead  man  to  be 
conveyed  in  one  of  them.  He  pleaded  most  piteously  for 
a  place  to  bring  in  the  body  of  his  young  master.  It  was 
useless,  and  he  was  repulsed;  but  finding  some  one  to 
guard  the  dead,  he  hastened  into  the  city  and  hired  a  cart 
and  driver  to  go  out  with  him  to  bring  in  the  body  to 
Richmond. 

When  he  arrived  again  at  the  place  where  he  had  left 
it,  he  was  urged  to  let  it  be  buried  on  the  field,  and  was 
told  that  he  would  not  be  allowed  to  take  it  from  Rich- 
mond, and  therefore  it  were  better  to  be  buried  there.  "I 
can't  do  it.  I  promised  my  mistress  (his  mother)  to  bring 
his  body  home  to  her  if  he  got  killed,  and  I'll  go  home 
with  it  or  I'll  die  by  it ;  I  can't  leave  my  master  Jemmy 
here."  The  boy  was  allowed  to  have  the  body  and 
brought  it  to  Richmond,  where  he  was  furnished  with  a 
coffin,  and  the  circumstances  being  made  known,  the 
faithful  slave,  in  the  care  of  a  wounded  officer  who  went 
South,  was  permitted  to  carry  the  remains  of  his  master 
to  his  distant  home  in  Georgia.  The  heart  of  the  mother 
was  comforted  in  the  possession  of  the  precious  body  of 
her  child,  and  in  giving  it  a  burial  in  the  churchyard  near 
his  own  loved  home. 

Fee  or  reward  for  this  noble  act  of  fidelity  would  have 
been  an  insult  to  the  better  feelings  of  this  poor  slave; 
but  when  he  delivered  up  the  watch  and  other  things 
taken  from  the  person  of  his  young  master,  the  mistress 
returned  him  the  watch,  and  said :  "Take  this  watch, 
Tom,  and  keep  it  for  the  sake  of  my  boy ;  'tis  but  a  poor 
reward  for  such  services  as  you  have  rendered  him  and 
his  mother."  The  poor  woman,  quite  overcome,  could 
only  add :    "God  bless  you,  boy !" 


I   KNEW  YOU  WOULD  COME 
[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  22,  pages  58-S9-] 

Col.  W.  R.  Aylett  tells  the  following  tender  story : 
Once  during  the  war,  when  the  lines  of  the  enemy 


132  woMi^N  01^  TH:e  coni^kdEracy 

separated  me  from  my  home,  I  was  an  inmate  of  my 
brother's  Richmond  home  while  suffering  from  a  wound. 
As  soon  as  I  could  walk  about  a  little,  my  first  steps  were 
directed  to  Seabrook's  Hospital  to  see  some  of  my  dear 
comrades  who  were  worse  wounded  than  I.  While  sit- 
ting by  the  cot  of  a  friend,  who  was  soon  to  "pass  over 
the  river  and  rest  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,"  I  wit- 
nessed a  scene  that  I  can  hardly  ever  think  of  without 
quickened  pulse  and  moist  eye. 

A  beautiful  boy,  too  young  to  fight  and  die,  and  a 
member  of  an  Alabama  regiment,  was  dying  from  a 
terrible  wound  a  few  feet  off.  His  mother  had  been  tele- 
graphed for  at  his  request.  In  the  wild  delirium  of  his 
dying  moments  he  had  been  steadily  calling  for  her,  "Oh, 
mother,  come;  do  come  quickly!"  Then,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  opiates  given  to  smooth  his  entrance  into 
eternal  rest,  he  dozed  and  slumbered.  The  thunders  of 
the  great  guns  along  the  lines  of  the  immortal  Lee  roused 
him  up.  Just  then  his  dying  eyes  rested  upon  one  of  the 
lovely  matrons  of  Richmond  advancing  toward  him. 
His  reeling  brain  and  distempered  imagination  mistook 
her  for  his  mother.  Raising  himself  up,  with  a  wild, 
delirious  cry  of  joy,  which  rang  throughout  the  hospital, 
he  cried :  "Oh,  mother !  I  knew  you  would  come !  I 
knew  you  would  come!  I  can  die  easy  now;"  and  she, 
humoring  his  illusion,  let  him  fall  upon  her  bosom,  and 
he  died  happy  in  her  arms,  her  tears  flowing  for  him  as 
if  he  had  been  her  own  son. 


IvIJTTDRS  I^ROM  The  POOR  AT  HOME) 
[Phoebe  Y.  Pember.] 

A  thousand  evidences  of  the  loving  care  and  energetic 
labor  of  the  patient  ones  at  home,  telling  an  affecting 
story  that  knocked  hard  at  the  gates  of  the  heart,  were  the 
portals  ever  so  firmly  closed;  and  with  all  these  came 
letters  written  by  poor,  ignorant  ones  who  often  had  no 
knowledge  of  how  such  communications  should  be  ad- 


woMDN  01^  The;  coni^iideracy  133 

dressed.  These  letters,  making  inquiries  concerning 
patients  from  anxious  relatives  at  home,  directed  oftener 
to  my  office  than  my  home,  came  in  numbers,  and  were 
queer  mixtures  of  ignorance,  bad  grammar,  worse  spell- 
ing, and  simple  feeling.  However  absurd  the  style,  the 
love  that  filled  them  chastened  and  purified  them.  Many 
are  stored  away,  and  though  irresistibly  ludicrous,  are 
too  sacred  to  print  for  public  amusement.  In  them  could 
be  detected  the  prejudices  of  the  different  sections.  One 
old  lady  in  upper  Georgia  wrote  a  pathetic  appeal  for  a 
furlough  for  her  son.  She  called  me  "My  dear  sir," 
while  still  retaining  my  feminine  address,  and  though  ex- 
pressing the  strongest  desire  for  her  son's  restoration  to 
health,  entreated  in  moving  accents  that  if  his  life  could 
not  be  spared,  that  he  should  not  be  buried  in  "Ole  Vir- 
ginny  dirt" — rather  a  derogatory  term  to  apply  to  the 
sacred  soil  that  gave  birth  to  the  Presidents, — the  soil  of 
the  Old  Dominion. 

Almost  all  of  these  letters  told  the  same  sad  tale  of 
destitution  of  food  and  clothing;  even  shoes  of  the 
roughest  kind  being  either  too  expensive  for  the  mass  or 
unattainable  by  the  expenditure  of  any  sum,  in  many 
parts  of  the  country.  For  the  first  two  years  of  the  war, 
privations  were  lightly  dwelt  upon  and  courageously 
borne,  but  when  want  and  suffering  pressed  heavily,  as 
times  grew  more  stringent,  there  was  a  natural  longing 
for  the  stronger  heart  and  frame  to  bear  part  of  the  bur- 
den. Desertion  is  a  crime  that  meets  generally  with  as 
much  contempt  as  cowardice,  and  yet  how  hard  for  the 
husband  or  father  to  remain  inactive  in  winter  quarters, 
knowing  that  his  wife  and  little  ones  were  literally  starv- 
ing at  home — not  even  at  home,  for  few  homes  were  left. 


LIFE  IN  RICHMOND  DURING  THE  WAR 

[Southern  Historical   Papers,   Volume    19.     From  the   Cosmopolitan,   December, 
1 891;    by  Edward  M.  Alfriend.] 

For  many  months  after  the  beginning  of  the  war  be- 
tween  the    States,    Richmond   was    an    extremely   gay^ 


134  WOMI)N  Olf  TH^  CONI^KDEIRACY 

bright,  and  happy  city.  Except  that  its  streets  were  filled 
with  handsomely  attired  officers  and  that  troops  con- 
stantly passed  through  it,  there  was  nothing  to  indicate 
the  horrors  or  sorrows  of  war,  or  the  fearful  deprivations 
that  subsequently  befell  it.  As  the  war  progressed  its 
miseries  tightened  their  bloody  grasp  upon  the  city, 
happiness  was  nearly  destroyed,  and  the  hearts  of  the 
people  were  made  to  bleed.  During  the  time  of  McClel- 
lan's  investment  of  Richmond,  and  the  seven  days'  fight- 
ing between  Lee's  army  and  his  own,  every  cannon 
that  was  fired  could  be  heard  in  every  home  in  Richmond, 
and  as  every  home  had  its  son  or  sons  at  the  front  of 
Lee's  army,  it  can  be  easily  understood  how  great  was 
the  anguish  of  every  mother's  heart  in  the  Confederate 
capital.  These  mothers  had  cheerfully  given  their  sons 
to  the  Southern  cause,  illustrating,  as  they  sent  them  to 
battle,  the  heroism  of  the  Spartan  mother,  who,  when 
she  gave  the  shield  to  her  son,  told  him  to  return  with  it 
or  on  it. 

Happy  Phases 

And  yet,  during  the  entire  war,  Richmond  had  happy 
phases  to  its  social  life.  Entertainments  were  given 
freely  and  very  liberally  the  first  year  of  the  war,  and  at 
them  wine  and  suppers  were  graciously  furnished,  but  as 
the  war  progressed  all  this  was  of  necessity  given  up,  and 
we  had  instead  what  were  called  "starvation  parties." 

The  young  ladies  of  the  city,  accompanied  by  their 
male  escorts  (generally  Confederate  officers  on  leave) 
would  assemble  at  a  fashionable  residence  that  before  the 
war  had  been  the  abode  of  wealth,  and  have  music  and 
plenty  of  dancing,  but  not  a  morsel  of  food  or  a  drop  of 
drink  was  seen.  And  this  form  of  entertainment  became 
the  popular  and  universal  one  in  Richmond.  Of  course, 
no  food  or  wine  was  served,  simply  because  the  host 
could  not  get  it,  or  could  not  afford  it.  And  at  these 
starvation  parties  the  young  people  of  Richmond  and  the 
young  army  officers  assembled  and  danced  as  brightly 
and  as  happily  as  though  a  supper  worthy  of  Lucullus 
awaited  them. 


WOMDN  OF  TH5  CONI^SDDRACY  1 35 

The  ladies  were  simply  dressed,  many  of  them  without 
jewelry,  because  the  women  of  the  South  had  given  their 
jewelry  to  the  Confederate  cause.  Often  on  the  occasion 
of  these  starvation  parties,  some  young  Southern  girl 
would  appear  in  an  old  gown  belonging  to  her  mother  or 
grandmother,  or  possibly  a  still  more  remote  ancestor, 
and  the  effect  of  the  antique  garment  was  very  peculiar; 
but  no  matter  what  was  worn,  no  matter  how  peculiarly 
any  one  might  be  attired,  no  matter  how  bad  the  music, 
no  matter  how  limited  the  host's  or  hostess's  ability  to 
entertain,  everybody  laughed,  danced,  and  was  happy, 
although  the  reports  of  the  cannon  often  boomed  in  their 
ears,  and  all  deprivations,  all  deficiencies,  were  looked  on 
as  a  sacrifice  to  the  Southern  cause. 

The  Dress  of  a  Grandmother 

I  remember  going  to  a  starvation  party  during  the  war 
with  a  Miss  M.,  a  sister  of  Annie  Rive's  mother.  She 
wore  a  dress  belonging  to  her  great-grandmother  eg: 
grandmother,  and  she  looked  regally  handsome  in  it. 
She  was  a  young  lady  of  rare  beauty,  and  as  thorough- 
bred in  every  feature  of  her  face  or  pose  and  line  of  her 
body  as  a  reindeer,  and  with  this  old  dress  on  she  looked 
as  though  the  portrait  of  some  ancestor  had  stepped  out 
of  its  frame. 

Such  spectacles  were  very  common  at  our  starvation 
parties.  On  one  occasion  I  attended  a  starvation  party 
at  the  residence  of  Mr.  John  Enders,  an  old  and  honored 
citizen  of  Richmond,  and,  of  course,  there  was  no  sup- 
per. Among  those  present  was  Willie  Allan,  the  second 
son  of  the  gentleman,  Mr.  John  Allan,  who  adopted 
Edgar  Allan  Poe,  and  gave  him  his  middle  name.  About 
I  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  came  to  one  other  gentleman 
and  myself,  and  asked  us  to  go  to  his  home  just  across 
the  street,  saying  he  thought  he  could  give  us  some  sup- 
per. Of  course,  we  eagerly  accepted  his  invitation  and 
accompanied  him  to  his  house.  He  brought  out  a  half 
dozen  mutton  chops  and  some  bread,  and  we  had  what 
was  to  us  a  royal  supper.  I  spent  the  night  at  the  Allan 
home  and  slept  in  the  same  room  with  Willie  Allan.    The 


136  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

next  morning  there  was  a  tap  on  the  door,  and  I  heard 
the  mother's  gentle  voice  calHng :  "WilHe,  WilUe."  He 
answered,  "Yes,  mother;  what  is  it?"  And  she  replied: 
"Did  you  eat  the  mutton  chops  last  night?"  He 
answered,  "Yes,"  when  she  said,  "Well,  then,  we  haven't 
any  breakfast." 

Frightful  Contrasts 

The  condition  of  the  Allan  household  was  that  of  all 
Richmond.  Sometimes  the  contrasts  that  occurred  in 
these  social  gayeties  in  Richmond  were  frightful,  ghastly. 
A  brilliant,  handsome,  happy,  joyous  young  officer,  full 
of  hope  and  promise,  would  dance  with  a  lovely  girl  and 
return  to  his  command.  A  few  days  would  elapse,  an- 
other "starvation"  would  occur,  the  officer  would  be 
missed,  he  would  be  asked  for,  and  the  reply  come, 
"Killed  in  battle;"  and  frequently  the  same  girls  with 
whom  he  danced  a  few  nights  before  would  attend  his 
funeral  from  one  of  the  churches  of  Richmond.  Can  life 
have  any  more  terrible  antithesis  than  this  ? 

A  Georgia  lady  was  once  remonstrating  with  General 
Sherman  against  the  conduct  of  some  of  his  men,  when 
she  said :  "General,  this  is  barbarity,"  and  General  Sher- 
man, who  was  famous  for  his  pregnant  epigrams,  re- 
plied :     "Madame,  war  is  barbarity."     And  so  it  is. 

On  one  occasion,  when  I  was  attending  a  starvation 
party  in  Richmond,  the  dancing  was  at  its  height  and 
everybody  was  bright  and  happy,  when  the  hostess,  who 
was  a  widow,  was  suddenly  called  out  of  the  room.  A 
hush  fell  on  everything,  the  dancing  stopped,  and  every 
one  became  sad,  all  having  a  premonition  in  those 
troublous  times  that  something  fearful  had  happened. 
We  were  soon  told  that  her  son  had  been  killed  late  that 
evening,  in  a  skirmish  in  front  of  Richmond,  a  few  miles 
from  his  home. 

Wounded  and  sick  men  and  officers  were  constantly 
brought  into  the  homes  of  the  people  of  Richmond  to  be 
taken  care  of,  and  every  home  had  in  it  a  sick  or  wounded 
Confederate  soldier.  From  the  association  thus  brought 
about  many  a  love  affair  occurred  and  many  a  marriage 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONIfEDKRACY  1 37 

resulted.  I  know  of  several  wives  and  mothers  in  the 
South  who  lost  their  hearts  and  won  their  soldier  hus- 
bands in  this  way,  so  this  phase  of  life  during  the  war 
near  Richmond  was  prolific  of  romance. 

General  Lee  Kissed  the  Girls 

General  Robert  E.  Lee  would  often  leave  the  front, 
come  into  Richmond  and  attend  these  starvation 
parties,  and  on  such  occasions  he  was  not  only  the 
cynosure  of  all  eyes,  but  the  young  ladies  all  crowded 
around  him,  and  he  kissed  every  one  of  them.  This  was 
esteemed  his  privilege  and  he  seemed  to  enjoy  the  exer- 
cise of  it.  On  such  occasions  he  was  thoroughly  urbane, 
•but  always  the  dignified,  patrician  soldier  in  his  bearing. 

Private  theatricals  were  also  a  form  of  amusement 
during  the  war.  I  saw  several  of  them.  The  finest  I 
witnessed,  however,  was  a  performance  of  Sheridan's 
comedy,  of  Alabama,  played  by  Mrs.  Malaprop.  Her 
rendition  of  the  part  was  one  of  the  best  I  ever  saw,, 
rivalling  that  of  any  professional.  The  audience  was 
very  brilliant,  the  President  of  the  Confederacy,  Mrs. 
Davis,  Judah  P.  Benjamin,  and  others  of  equal  dis- 
tinction being  present. 

Mrs.  Davis  is  a  woman  of  great  intellectual  powers  and 
a  social  queen,  and  at  these  entertainments  she  was  very 
charming.  Mr.  Davis  was  always  simple,  unpretentious, 
and  thoroughly  cordial  in  his  manner.  To  those  who 
saw  him  on  these  occasions  it  was  impossible  to  associate 
his  gentle,  pleasing  manner  with  the  stern  decision  with 
which  he  was  then  directing  his  side  of  the  greatest  war 
of  modern  times.  The  world  has  greatly  misunderstood 
Mr.  Davis,  and  in  no  way  more  than  in  personal  traits  of 
his  character.  My  brother,  the  late  Frank  H.  Alfriend, 
was  Mr.  Davis's  biographer,  and  through  personal  inter- 
course with  Mr.  Davis  I  knew  him  well.  In  all  his  social, 
domestic,  and  family  relations,  he  was  the  gentlest,  the 
noblest,  the  tenderest  of  men.  As  a  father  and  husband 
he  was  almost  peerless,  for  his  domestic  life  was  the 
highest  conceivable. 

Mr.  Davis,  at  the  executive  mansion,  held  weekly  re- 


138  wome:n  of  the  confederacy 

ceptions,  to  which  the  pubHc  were  admitted.  These  con- 
tinued until  nearly  the  end  of  the  war.  The  occasions 
were  not  especially  marked,  but  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davis 
were  always  delightful  hosts. 

John  Wise  and  His  Big  Clothes 

The  spectacle  presented  at  the  social  gatherings,  par- 
ticularly the  starvation  parties,  was  picturesque  in  the 
extreme.  The  ladies  often  took  down  the  damask  and 
other  curtains  and  made  dresses  of  them.  My  friend, 
Hon.  John  S.  Wise,  formerly  of  Virginia,  now  of  New 
York,  tells  the  following  story  of  himself:  He  was 
serving  in  front  of  Richmond  and  was  invited  to  come 
into  the  city  to  attend  a  starvation  party.  Having  no 
coat  of  his  own  fit  to  wear,  he  borrowed  one  from  a 
brother  officer  nearly  twice  his  height.  The  sleeves  of 
his  coat  covered  his  hands  entirely,  the  skirt  came  below 
his  knees  several  inches,  and  the  buttons  in  the  back  were 
down  on  his  legs.  So  attired.  Captain  Wise  went  to  the 
party.  His  first  partner  in  the  dance  was  a  young  lady 
of  Richmond  belonging  to  one  of  its  best  families.  She 
was  attired  in  the  dress  of  her  great-grandmother,  and  a 
part  of  this  dress  was  a  stomacher  very  suggestive  in  its 
proportions.  Captain  Wise  relates  with  exquisite  humor 
that  in  the  midst  of  the  dance  he  found  himself  in  front 
of  a  mirror,  and  that  the  sight  presented  by  himself  and 
his  partner  was  so  ridiculous  that  he  burst  out  laughing ; 
and  his  partner  turned  and  looked  at  him  angrily,  left 
his  side  and  never  spoke  to  him  again. 

Contrasts  That  Were  Pretty 

The  varied  and  sometimes  handsome  uniforms  of  the 
Confederate  officers  commingling  with  each  other  and 
contrasting  with  the  simple,  pretty,  sometimes  antiquated 
dresses  of  the  ladies,  made  pictures  that  were  beautiful 
in  their  contrasts  of  color  and  of  tone.  An  artist  would 
have  found  these  scenes  infinite  opportunity  for  his  pencil 
or  brush. 

I  am  sure  that  this  phase  of  social  life  in  Richmond 
during  the  war  is  without  parallel  in  the  world's  history. 


WOMEN  OP  the;  coNifE;DERAcy  139 

The  army  officers,  of  course,  had  only  their  uniforms, 
and  the  women  wore  whatever  they  could  get  to  wear. 
In  the  last  year  of  the  war,  particularly  the  last  few 
months,  the  pinch  of  deprivation,  especially  as  to  food, 
became  frightful.  There  were  many  families  in  Rich- 
mond that  were  in  well-nigh  a  starving  condition.  I 
know  of  some  that  lived  for  days  on  pea  soup  and  bread. 
Confederate  money  was  almost  valueless.  Its  purchas- 
ing power  had  so  depreciated  that  it  used  to  be  said  it 
took  a  basketful  to  go  to  market.  Of  course,  the  people 
had  very  few  greenbacks,  and  very  little  gold  or  silver. 
The  city  was  invested  by  two  armies,  Grant's  and  Lee's, 
and  its  railroad  communications  constantly  destroyed 
by  the  Union  cavalry.  Supplies  of  food  were  very 
scarce  and  enormously  costly;  a  barrel  of  flour  cost 
several  hundred  dollars  in  Confederate  money,  and  just 
before  the  fall  of  the  Confederacy  I  paid  $500  for  a  pair 
of  heavy  boots.  The  suffering  of  this  period  was  dread- 
ful, and  when  Richmond  capitulated  many  of  its  peo'^le 
were  in  an  almost  starving  condition.  Indeed,  there  was 
little  food  outside,  and  the  Southern  troops  were  but 
little  better  off. 

Loyalty  of  the  Slaves 

But  in  April,  1865,  the  Confederacy  ceased  to  exist; 
it  passed  into  history,  and  Richmond  was  occupied  by 
the  Northern  army.  Many  of  its  people  were  without 
food  and  without  money — I  mean  money  of  the  United 
States.  It  was  at  this  period  that  the  colored  people  of 
Richmond,  slaves  up  to  the  time  the  war  ended,  but  now 
no  longer  bondsmen,  showed  their  loyalty  and  love  for 
their  former  masters  and  mistresses.  They,  of  course, 
had  access  to  the  commissary  of  the  United  States,  and 
many,  very  many,  of  these  former  negro  slaves  went  to 
the  United  States  commissary,  obtained  food  seemingly 
for  themselves,  and  took  it  in  basketfuls  to  their  former 
owners,  who  were  without  food  or  money.  I  do  not 
recall  any  record  in  the  world's  history  nobler  than  this — 
indeed,  equal  to  it. 

These  are  memories  of  a  dead  past,  and  thank  God! 


140  WOM^N  01^  TH^  CONI^DD^RACY 

we  now  live  under  the  old  flag  and  in  a  happy,  reunited 
country,  which  the  South  loves  with  a  patriotic  devotion 
unsurpassed  by  the  North  itself. 


THE  WOMEN  OE  NEW  OREEANS 
[J.  E.  Underwood.] 

While  the  patriotic  women  of  New  Orleans  saw  very 
little  of  war's  ravages,  yet  they  endured  three  years  of 
war's  hardships.  The  Crescent  City  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Federals  in  1862,  Commodore  Farragut  command- 
ing the  navy,  and  General  B.  F.  Butler  the  land  forces. 
The  latter  was  made  military  governor.  Farragut 
carried  on  war  against  combatants,  and  as  an  oifficer  is 
to  this  day  respected  and  honored  by  the  Southern  people. 
Butler  carried  on  war  on  civilians  and  against  defenceless 
women.  The  history  of  these  women  cannot  be  told 
without  telling  of  their  odious  military  tyrant. 

President  Davis  in  his  proclamation  said : 

The  helpless  women  have  been  torn  from  their  homes  and  sub- 
jected to  solitary  confinement,  some  in  fortresses  and  prisons,  and 
one,  especially,  on  an  island  of  barren  sand  under  a  tropical  sun, 
have  been  fed  with  loathsome  rations  that  had  been  condemned  as 
unfit  for  soldiers,  and  have  been  exposed  to  the  vilest  insults. 

Egress  from  the  city  has  been  refused  to  those  whose  fortitude 
could  withstand  the  test,  even  to  lone  and  aged  women  and  to  help- 
less children;  and  after  being  ejected  from  their  homes  and  robbed 
of  their  property,  they  have  been  left  to  starve  in  the  streets  or  sub- 
sist on  charity. 

But  this  does  not  tell  half  the  story.  The  civilized 
world  stood  aghast  when  General  Butler  issued  his  in- 
famous "Order  No.  28,"  which  reads  as  follows : 

As  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  United  States  have  been  sub- 
jected to  insults  from  the  women  (calling  themselves  ladies)  of 
New  Orleans  in  return  for  the  most  scrupulous  noninterference  and 
courtesy  on  our  part,  it  is  ordered  that  hereafter  when  any  female 
shall  by  word,  gesture,  or  movement  insult  or  show  contempt  for 
any  officer  or  soldier  of  the  United  States,  she  shall  be  regarded  and 
held  liable  to  be  treated  as  a  woman  of  the  town  plying  her  avoca- 
tion. 

By  Command  of  Major  General  Butler. 


WOMDN  O^  rut  CONl^^DERACY  I4I 

Human  language  cannot  describe  the  cowardice,  the 
meanness,  the  brutaHty  of  such  an  order.  All  Europe  de- 
nounced him,  President  Davis  outlawed  him,  some  of  his 
own  Northern  newspapers  would  not  at  first  believe  that 
he  had  issued  such  an  order. 

From  that  time  on  the  name  of  "Butler,  the  Beast," 
was  fastened  to  him.  In  this  day  we  pity  women  who 
are  in  danger  of  falling  into  the  clutches  of  the  black 
brute.  These  women  of  1862  were  under  the  heels  of  a 
white  brute.  Every  American  patriot  will  hang  his  head 
in  shame  for  all  time  that  President  Lincoln  kept  Butler 
in  high  military  office  to  the  end  of  the  war,  and  the 
government  never  did  repudiate  his  infamous  official  out- 
rage. Be  it  recorded  to  the  everlasting  honor  of  the 
Federal  army  that  none  of  the  soldiers  of  "The  Beast" 
availed  themselves  of  the  license  conferred  by  his  order. 


INCORRIGIBLE  LITTLE  DEVIL"  • 

[Eggleston's  Recollections,  pages  65-66.] 

In  New  Orleans,  soon  after  the  war,  I  saw  in  a  draw- 
ing-room, one  day,  an  elaborately  framed  letter,  of 
which,  the  curtains  being  drawn,  I  could  read  only  the 
signature,  which  to  my  astonishment  was  that  of  Gen- 
eral Butler. 

"What  is  that?"  I  asked  of  the  young  gentlewoman  I 
was  visiting. 

"Oh,  that's  my  diploma,  my  certificate  of  good  be- 
havior from  General  Butler;"  and  taking  it  down  from 
the  wall,  she  permitted  me  to  read  it,  telling  me  at  the 
same  time  its  history.  It  seems  that  the  young  lady  had 
been  very  active  in  aiding  captured  Confederates  to 
escape  from  New  Orleans,  and  for  this  and  other  similar 
offenses  she  was  arrested  several  times.  A  gentleman 
who  knew  General  Butler  personally  had  interested  him- 
self in  behalf  of  her  and  some  friends,  and  upon  making 
an  appeal  for  their  discharge  received  this  personal  note 
from  the  commanding  general,  in  which  he  declared  his 


142  woM:eN  oif  mt  conJ^ddeiracy 

willingness  to  discharge  all  the  others.  "But  that  black- 
eyed  Miss  B.,"  he  wrote,  "seems  to  me  an  incorrigible 
little  devil,  whom  even  prison  fare  won't  tame."  The 
young  lady  had  framed  the  note,  and  she  cherishes  it  yet, 
doubtless. 

Later  on  Butler  was  given  a  command  in  the  East  and 
General  Banks  put  in  control  at  New  Orleans.  He  was 
clean  and  soldierly,  but  more  stern  and  overbearing  in 
some  respects  than  Butler.  Dr.  Stone,  the  most  promi- 
nent citizen  of  New  Orleans,  said  to  the  writer  in  1863  • 
"We  could  manage  Butler  better  than  we  can  Banks. 
We  could  scare  Butler,  but  we  can't  move  Banks."  Our 
poor  women,  patient  and  prudent  through  it  all,  were  out 
of  the  fire,  but  they  were  in  the  frying-pan. 


THK  baTTIvE;  01^  the:  handkerchief's 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Honorable  W.  H.  Seymour  for 
the  following  very  interesting  story: 

There  was  a  great  stir  and  intense  excitement  one  time 
during  General  Banks's  administration.  A  number  of  the 
"rebels"  were  to  leave  for  the  "Confederacy."  Their 
friends,  amounting  to  some  20,000  persons,  women  and 
children  principally,  wended  their  way  down  to  the  levee 
to  see  them  off  and  to  take  their  last  farewell.  Such  a 
quantity  of  women  frightened  the  Federal  officials :  they 
were  greatly  exasperated  at  their  waving  of  handker- 
chiefs, their  loud  calling  to  their  friends,  and  their  going 
on  to  vessels  in  the  vicinity. 

Orders  were  given  to  "stand  back,"  but  no  heed  was 
given;  the  bayonets  were  pointed  at  the  ladies,  but  they 
were  not  scared.  A  lady  ran  across  to  get  a  nearer  view. 
An  officer  seized  her  by  the  arm,  but  she  escaped,  leaving 
a  scarf  in  his  possession.  At  last  the  military  received 
orders  to  do  its  duty. 

The  affair  was  called  the  Pocket  Handkerchief  War 
and  has  been  put  in  verse,  as  follows : 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  I43 

The   Greatest   Victory   of   the   War — La   Battaille   des 
Mouc  hairs. 

[By    Capt.    James    Dinkins,    in    New    Orleans    Picayune;    Southern    Historical 
Papers,   Volume   31.] 

[Fought  Friday,  February  20,   1863,  at  the  head  of  Gravier  Street.] 

Of  all  the  battles,  modern  or  old. 

By  poet  sung  or  historian  told; 

Of  all  the  routs  that  ever  was  seen 

From  the  days  of  Saladin  to  Marshall  Turenne, 

Or  all  the  victories  later  yet  won, 

From  Waterloo's  field  to  that  of  Bull  Run; 

All,  all,  must  hide  their  fading  light, 

In  the  radiant  glow  of  the  handkerchief  fight; 

And  a  paean  of  joy  must  thrill  the  land. 

When  they  hear  of  the  deeds  of  Banks's  band. 

'Twas  on  a  levee,  where  the  tide  of  "Father  Mississippi"  flows. 

Our  gallant  lads,  their  country's  pride, 

Won  this   great  victory  o'er  her   foes, 

Four  hundred  rebels  were  to  leave 

That  morning  for  Secessia's  shades, 

When  down  there  came  (you'd  scarce  believe) 

A  troop  of  children,  wives,  and  maids. 

To  wave  their  farewells,  to  bid  God-speed, 

To  shed  for  them  the  parting  tear, 

'To  waft  their  kisses  as  the  meed  of  praise  to  soldiers'  hearts  most  dear. 

They  came  in  hundreds;    thousands  lined 

The  streets,  the  roofs,  the  shipping,  too; 
Their  ribbons  dancing  in  the  wind,  ' 

Their  bright  eyes  flashing  love's  adieu. 
'Twas  then  to  danger  we  awoke. 

But  nobly  faced  the  unarmed  throng. 
And  beat  them  back  with  hearty  stroke. 

Till    reinforcements   came   along. 
We  waited  long;    our  aching  sight 

Was  strained  in  eager,   anxious   gaze. 
At  last  we  saw  the  bayonets  bright 

Flash  in  the  sunlight's  welcome  blaze. 
The  cannon's  dull  and  heavy  roll. 

Fell  greeting  on  our  gladdened  ear. 
Then  fired  each  eye,  then  glowed  each  soul. 

For  well  we  knew  the  strife  was  near. 

"Charge!"    rang  the  cry,  and  on  we  dashed 

Upon  our  female  foes, 
As  seas  in  stormy  fury  lashed, 

Whene'er  the  tempest  blows. 
Like  chaff  their  parasols  went  down, 

As  our  gallants  rushed; 
And  many  a  bonnet,  robe,  and  gown 

Was  torn  to  shreds  or  crushed; 
Though  well  we  plied  the  bayonet. 

Still  some  our  efforts  braved. 
Defiant  both  of  blow  and  threat, 

Their  handkerchiefs  still  waved. 
Thick  grew  the  fight,  loud  rolled  the  din. 

When  "charge!"  rang  out  again 
And  then  the  cannon  thundered  in, 

And   scoured    o'er   the    plain. 
Down,  'neath  the  unpitying  iron  heels  of  horses  children  sank, 

While  through  the  crowd  the  cannon 
Wheels  mowed  roads  on  either  flank, 

One  startled  shriek,  one  hollow  groan. 
One  headlong  rush,  and  then 

"Huzza!"    the  field  was  all  our  own, 
For  we  were  Banks's  men. 


144  WOMEN  OF*  THE  CONFEDERACY 

That  night,  released  from  all  our  toils, 

Our   dangers   passed   and   gone. 
We  gladly  gathered  up  the  spoils 

Our  chivalry  had  won! 
Five  hundred  'kerchiefs  we  had  snatched 

From  rebel  ladies'  hands. 
Ten  parasols,  two  shoes   (not  matched). 

Some  ribbons,  belts,  and  bands. 
And  other  things  that  I  forgot; 

But  then  you'll  find  them  all 
As  trophies  in  that  hallowed  spot — 

The    cradle — Faneuil    Hall! 

And  long  on  Massachusetts'  shore 

And  on  Green  Mountain's  side. 
Or  where  Long  Island's  breakers  roar. 

And  by  the  Hudson's  tide. 
In  times  to  come,  when  lamps  are  lit. 

And  fires  brightly  blaze, 
While  round  the  knees  of  heroes  sit 

The  young  of  happier  days. 
Who  listen  to  their  storied  deeds. 

To   them  sublimely  grand, 
Then  glory  shall  award  its  meed 

Of  praise  to  Banks's  band. 
And  Fame  proclaim  that  they  alone 

(In  Triumph's  loudest  note) 
May  wear  lienceforth,  for  valor  shown, 

A  woman's  petticoat. 


THE     WOMEN     OE     NEW     ORLEANS     AND     VICKSBURG 

PRISONERS 

[By  J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

General  Pemberton's  army  at  Vicksburg  surrendered 
on  the  4th  of  July,  1863.  According  to  the  liberal  terms, 
the  thirty  thousand  Confederates  were  paroled  and 
allowed  to  march  to  their  homes  across  the  country.  It 
was  about  a  month  before  the  sick  and  wounded  could 
be  removed.  They  were  sent  on  Federal  transports  down 
the  Mississippi  River  by  the  way  of  New  Orleans  and 
thence  across  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  by  Fort  Morgan  to 
Mobile. 

The  first  boatload  consisted  of  the  sick  in  the  hospital, 
which  was  under  the  charge  of  Dr.  Richard  Whitfield,  of 
Alabama.  I  went  to  Vicksburg  as  sergeant  major  of  the 
Twentieth  Alabama  Regiment,  but,  at  the  request  of  the 
Thirtieth  Alabama,  had  been  commissioned  captain  and 
appointed  chaplain  of  that  command  a  few  months, be- 
fore the  surrender.  On  the  very  evening  of  the  surrender 
I  was  taken  very  sick  and  for  some  days  lay  at  the  point 


WOMEN  OE*  THE  CONFEDERACY  I45 

of  death.  Under  the  kind  nursing  of  friends  in  Vicks- 
burg,  and  by  the  good  medicines  provided  by  the  noble 
Chaplain  Porter,  of  Illinois,  of  the  Federal  army,  I  began 
to  rally  in  time  to  be  moved  to  Dr.  Whitfield's  hospital 
and  be  put  aboard  the  first  boat  for  home.  By  the  time 
we  reached  New  Orleans  I  had  nearly  recovered  my 
usual  strength.  At  New  Orleans  we  were  transferred  to 
a  gulf  steamer,  which  lay  at  the  wharf  for  nearly  two 
days.  Soon  after  our  arrival  it  looked  as  if  the  whole 
population  of  the  Crescent  City  had  crowded  down  to 
look  at  us  and  they  stood  there  all  day  to  comfort  us  with 
their  smiles  during  our  stay. 

General  Banks  allowed  Dr.  Stone  and  five  other  physi- 
cians to  come  on  our  steamer  and  look  after  the  sick,  to 
furnish  coffins  for  the  dead  and  remove  them  for  burial. 
No  other  citizens  could  pass  the  sentinels  or  a  rope  guard 
extending  about  thirty  yards  from  the  boat.  A  detail  of 
Federal  soldiers  kept  all  our  private  Confederates  on  the 
boat.  There  were  only  three  or  four  Confederate  officers 
and  we  were  allowed  full  liberty  to  go  to  the  guard  line 
and  talk  to  the  citizens.  Very  soon  the  people  began  to 
bring  such  supplies  and  refreshments  as  General  Banks 
would  allow,  and  they  literally  loaded  the  steamer  with 
all  sorts  of  good  things,  from  hams  and  pickles  down  to 
fans,  pipes,  and  tobacco.  Every  soldier  had  enough  for 
his  wants  and  as  much  as  he  could  take  home.  Dr. 
Stone  told  me  that  General  Banks  would  not  allow  his 
people  to  do  half  of  what  they  were  anxious  to  do.  He 
said  the  people  wanted  to  keep  us  a  while  and  clothe  us 
in  new  outfits. 

I  must  just  here  put  on  record  one  of  the  most  touch- 
ing instances  of  soldierly  generosity  and  kindness  that 
ever  occurred  in  war.  Lieutenant  Winslow,  of  Massa- 
chusetts, was  in  command  of  the  Federal  guard  on  our 

steamer,  and  Captain  in  charge  of  the  guard  on 

the  wharf.  These  two  gallant  young  Federal  officers, 
although  in  full  dress  uniform,  worked  like  beavers  all 
day  under  a  hot  sun,  in  assisting  me  to  get  the  refresh- 
ments and  provisions  from  the  hands  of  the  ladies  or 


146  WOMEN  O^  THE)  CONI^EDKRACY 

servants  at  the  guard  line  and  take  them  to  the  boat,  there 
to  be  handed  to  our  men.  The  good  women  thought,  of 
course,  we  had  wounded  men  among  us,  but  there  was 
not  one.  An  amazing  quantity  of  Hnt  and  bandages  was 
sent  aboard.  In  the  Hnen  furnished  for  this  purpose 
were  whole  garments  of  the  finest  fibre  of  female  under- 
wear, most  of  it  all  bright  and  new.  Many  a  rusty 
Vicksburg  soldier  that  night  decked  himself  in  a  fine 
nightrobe  with  amazingly  short  sleeves,  and  many  a 
soldier's  wife  accepted  for  her  own  use  the  dainty  peace- 
offering  when  we  reached  home.  None  of  these  good 
people,  men  nor  women,  were  allowed  to  cheer  us.  All 
that  they  could  do  was  to  give  us  sympathy  by  their  pres- 
ence and  their  smiles.  I  saw  the  police  or  the  soldiers 
arrest  man  after  man  for  some  disloyal  utterance. 

The  day  we  left  the  throng  of  beautiful  women  seemed 
to  extend  up  and  down  the  levee  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach.  As  the  boat  pushed  off  for  Mobile  our  poor  fel- 
lows crowded  the  deck  and  the  excitement  on  shore  grew 
intense.  Neither  side  could  cheer  and  the  tension  was 
painful.  Finally  the  awfully  trying  stillness  was  broken 
by  the  waving  of  a  little  white  handkerchief,  in  a  fair 
woman's  hand. 

In  a  moment  thousands  of  others  were  to  be  seen, 
silently  telling  us  "Good-bye  and  God  bless  you."  In  a 
few  moments  we  could  see  excitement  in  every  face,  and 
presently  a  little  tender  woman's  voice  screamed  out 
"Hurrah!  hurrah!"  and  then  a  thousand  sweet  throats 
took  up  the  shout.  That  "Hurrah"  from  Southern 
women  and  those  handkerchiefs  waved  under  the  point 
of  hostile  bayonets  told  with  pathos  of  a  world  of  patriot- 
ism in  the  breasts  of  those  noble  women.  We  old  Con- 
federates were  overcome.  One  grim  old  North  Caro- 
linian, standing  by  my  side,  with  Federal  guards  all 
around  us,  and  the  tears  streaming  down  his  sun- 
hardened  cheeks,  cried  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice :  "Men, 
they  may  kill  me,  but  I  tell  you  I  am  willing  to  die  a 
hundred  times  for  such  women  as  them."  We  all  felt  so, 
and  the  living  veterans  feel  that  way  yet. 


WOMEN  OP  the;  confederacy  147 

"it  don't  trouble  me" 

[Phoebe  Y.  Pember.] 

There  was  but  little  sensibility  exhibited  by  soldiers  for 
the  fate  of  their  comrades  in  field  or  hospital.  The  re- 
sults of  war  are  here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow.  I 
stood  still,  spell-bound  by  that  youthful  death-bed,  when 
my  painful  revery  was  broken  upon  by  a  drawling  voice 
from  a  neighboring  bed,  which  had  been  calling  me  such 
peculiar  names  and  titles  that  I  had  been  oblivious  to 
whom  they  were  addressed. 

"Look  here.  I  say.  Aunty ! — Mammy ! — You !"  Then 
in  despair,  "Missus  Mauma!  Kin  you  gim  me  sich  a 
thing  as  a  b'iled  sweet  pur-r-rta-a-a-tu-ur  ?  I  b'long  to 
the  Twenty-secun'  Nor'  Ka-a-a-li-i-na  Regiment."  I 
told  the  nurse  to  remove  his  bed  from  proximity  to  his 
dead  neighbor,  that  in  the  low  state  of  his  health  from 
fever  the  sight  might  affect  his  nerves,  but  he  treated  the 
suggestion  with  contempt. 

"Don't  make  no  sort  of  difference  to  me;  they  dies  all 
around  me  in  the  field  and  it  don't  trouble  me." 


SAVAGE  WAR  IN  THE  VALLEY 
[In  the  Rise  and  Fall  of  Confederate  Government,  Volume  2,  pages  700-709.] 

On  June  19,  1864,  Major-General  Hunter  began  his 
retreat  from  before  Lynchburg  down  the  Shenandoah 
Valley.  Lieutenant-General  Early,  who  followed  in  pur- 
suit, thus  describes  the  destruction  he  witnessed  along  the 
route : 

"Houses  had  been  burned,  and  helpless  women  and 
children  left  without  shelter.  The  country  had  been 
stripped  of  provisions,  and  many  families  left  without  a 
morsel  to  eat.  Furniture  and  bedding  had  been  cut  to 
pieces,  and  old  men  and  women  and  children  robbed  of 
all  the  clothing  they  had,  except  that  on  their  backs. 
Ladies'  trunks  had  been  rifled,  and  their  dresses  torn  to 
pieces  in  mere  wantonness.  Even  the  negro  girls  had  lost 
their  little  finery.    At  Lexington  he  had  burned  the  Mill- 


148  WOMKN  01^  THE  CONIfE:DE;RACY 

tary  Institute  with  all  its  contents,  including  its  library 
and  scientific  apparatus.  Washington  College  had  been 
plundered,  and  the  statue  of  Washington  stolen.  The 
residence  of  ex-Governor  Letcher  at  that  place  had  been 
burned  by  orders,  and  but  a  few  minutes  given  Mrs. 
Letcher  and  her  family  to  leave  the  house.  In  the 
county  a  most  excellent  Christian  gentleman,  a  Mr. 
Creigh,  had  been  hung,  because,  on  a  former  occasion,  he 
had  killed  a  straggling  and  marauding  Federal  soldier 
while  in  the  act  of  insulting  and  outraging  the  ladies  of 
his  family," 


MRS.    ROBERT   TURNER,    WOODSTOCK,    VA, 
[J.  I/.  Underwood.] 

The  patriotic  husband  was  in  Lee's  army  and  had  left 
his  wife  at  home  with  two  little  girls  and  an  infant  in 
her  arms.  The  home  had  fallen  within  the  lines  of  the 
Federals  and  the  officers  had  stationed  a  guard  in  the 
house  for  her  protection.  One  night  a  marauding  party 
of  bummers,  who  were  fleeing  from  a  party  of  soldiers 
seeking  to  arrest  them,  came  to  her  house  and  demanded 
that  she  should  go  and  show  them  the  road  they  wanted 
to  take.  The  soldier  guarding  her  said  they  were  asking 
too  much  and  refused  to  let  her  go.  They  shot  him  down 
so  near  her  that  his  blood  fell  on  her  dress.  She  went 
with  her  little  children  in  the  dark  night  and  showed 
them  the  road  they  asked  for,  and  the  poor  woman 
hastened  back  to  her  home,  only  to  hear  the  ruffians  com- 
ing again.  They  overtook  her  in  the  yard  and  came  with 
such  rough  threats  that  she  thought  they  were  going  to 
kill  her,  and  to  save  her  oldest  little  girl,  she  tried  to 
conceal  her  by  throwing  her  into  some  thick  shrubbery. 
Unfortunately  the  fall  and  the  excitement  inflicted  an  in- 
jury which  followed  the  child  all  her  life.  The  maraud- 
ers followed  the  poor  mother  into  the  house  and  threat- 
ened to  kill  her.  But  as  one  of  them  held  a  pistol  in  her 
face  the  pursuing  party  rushed  in  and  an  officer  knocked 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONEKDERACY  I49 

the  pistol  up  and  shot  the  ruffian,  who  proved  to  be  the 
one  who  had  killed  the  guard  of  the  home. 

Some  one  wrote  to  Mr.  Turner  of  the  situation  of  his 
family.  General  Lee  saw  the  letter  and  sent  Turner 
home  to  remove  his  little  family  to  a  place  of  safety. 
This  he  did,  and  promptly  returned  to  his  post  in  the 
army,  where  he  served  faithfully  to  the  end  of  the  war 
and  then  became  a  staunch  citizen. 


HIGH  PRICE  OE  NEEDIvES  AND  THREAD 

[By   Walter,   a   Soldier's    Son;     from   Mrs.    Fannie   A.    Beer's   Memoirs,   pages 

293-29S-] 

My  father  was  once  a  private  soldier  in  the  Confeder- 
ate army,  and  he  often  tells  me  interesting  stories  of  the 
war.  One  morning,  just  as  he  was  going  down  town, 
mother  sent  me  to  ask  him  to  change  a  dollar.  He  could 
not  do  it,  but  he  said, 

"Ask  your  mother  how  much  change  she  wants  ?" 

She  only  wanted  a  dime  to  buy  a  paper  of  needles  and 
some  silk  to  mend  my  jacket.  So  I  went  back  and  asked 
for  ten  cents.  Instead  of  taking  it  out  of  his  vest  pocket, 
father  opened  his  pocket-book  and  said, 

"Did  you  say  you  wanted  ten  dollars  or  ten  cents,  my 
boy?" 

"Why,  father,"  said  I,  "who  ever  heard  of  paying  ten 
dollars  for  needles  and  thread?" 

"I  have,"  said  he.  "I  once  heard  of  a  paper  of  needles, 
and  a  skein  of  silk,  worth  more  than  ten  dollars." 

His  eyes  twinkled  and  looked  so  pleasant  that  I  knew 
there  was  a  story  on  hand,  so  I  told  mother  and  sis'  Loo, 
who  promised  to  find  out  all  about  it.  After  supper  that 
night  mother  coaxed  father  to  tell  us  the  story. 

We  liked  it  so  well  that  I  got  mother  to  write  it  down 
for  the  Bivouac. 

After  the  battle  of  Chickamauga,  one  of  "our  mess" 
found  a  needle  case  which  had  belonged  to  some  poor 
fellow,  probably  among  the  killed.  He  did  not  place 
much  value  upon  the  contents,  although  there  was  a  paper 


150  WOMDN  OP  THE)  CONFEDERACY 

of  No.  8  needles,  several  buttons,  and  a  skein  or  two  of 
thread,  cut  at  each  end  and  neatly  braided  so  that  each 
thread  could  be  smoothly  drawn  out.  He  put  the  whole 
thing  in  his  breast-pocket,  and  thought  no  more  about  it. 
But  one  day  while  out  foraging  for  himself  and  his  mess, 
he  found  himself  near  a  house  where  money  could  have 
procured  a  meal  of  fried  chicken,  corn-pone,  and  butter- 
milk, besides  a  small  supply  to  carry  back  to  camp.  But 
Confederate  soldiers'  purses  were  generally  as  empty  as 
their  stomachs,  and  in  this  instance  the  lady  of  the  house 
did  not  offer  to  give  away  her  nice  dinner.  While  the 
poor  fellow  was  inhaling  the  enticing  odor,  and  feeling 
desperately  hungry,  a  girl  rode  up  to  the  gate  on  horse- 
back, and  bawled  out  to  another  girl  inside  the  house, 

"Oh,  Cindy,  I  rid  over  to  see  if  you  couldn't  lend  me  a 
needle.  I  broke  the  last  one  I  had  to-day,  and  pap  says 
thar  ain't  nary  'nother  to  be  bought  in  the  country  here- 
abouts !" 

Cindy  declared  she  was  in  the  same  fix,  and  couldn't 
finish  her  new  homespun  dress  for  that  reason. 

The  soldier  just  then  had  an  idea.  He  retired  to  a 
little  distance,  pulled  out  his  case,  sticking  two  needles 
on  the  front  of  his  jacket,  then  went  back  and  offered  one 
of  them,  with  his  best  bow,  to  the  girl  on  the  horse. 
Right  away  the  lady  of  the  house  offered  to  trade  for  the 
one  remaining.  The  result  was  a  plentiful  dinner  for 
himself ;  and  in  consideration  of  a  thread  or  two  of  silk, 
a  full  haversack  and  canteen.  After  this  our  mess  was 
well  supplied,  and  our  forager  began  to  look  sleek  and 
fat.  The  secret  of  his  success  did  not  leak  out  till  long 
afterward,  when  he  astonished  the  boys  by  declaring  he 
"had  been  'living  like  a  fighting-cock'  on  a  paper  of 
needles  and  two  skeins  of  silk." 

"And,"  added  father,  "if  he  had  paid  for  all  the  meals 
he  got  in  Confederate  money,  the  amount  would  have 
been  far  more  than  ten  dollars." 

I  know  other  boys  and  girls  will  think  this  a  queer 
story,  but  I  hope  they  will  like  it  as  well  as  mother  and 
Loo  and  I  did. 


womi;n  Of*  The)  coni^ede^racy  151 

DESPAIR  AT  HOME — HEROISM  AT  THE  ERONT 
[Major  Robert  Stiles,  in  Four  Years  Under  Marse  Robert,  pages  349-350.] 

There  is  one  feature  of  our  Confederate  struggle,  to 
which  I  have  already  made  two  or  three  indirect  allu- 
sions, as  to  which  there  has  been  such  a  strange  popular 
misapprehension  that  I  feel  as  if  there  rested  upon  the 
men  who  thoroughly  understand  the  situation  a  solemn, 
obligation  to  bring  out  strongly  and  clearly  the  sound  and 
true  view  of  the  matter.  I  refer  to  an  impression,  quite 
common,  that  the  desertions  from  the  Confederate 
armies,  especially  in  the  latter  part  of  the  war,  indicated 
a  general  lack  of  devotion  to  the  cause  on  the  part  of  the 
men  in  the  ranks. 

On  the  contrary,  it  is  my  deliberate  conviction  that 
Southern  soldiers  who  remained  faithful  under  the  un- 
speakable pressure  of  letters  and  messages  revealing  suf- 
fering, starvation,  and  despair  at  home  displayed  more 
than  human  heroism.  The  men  who  felt  this  strain  most 
were  the  husbands  of  young  wives  and  fathers  of  young 
children,  whom  they  had  supported  by  their  labor,  manual 
or  mental.  As  the  lines  of  communication  in  the  Con- 
federacy were  more  and  more  broken  and  destroyed,  and 
the  ability,  both  of  county  and  public  authorities  and  of 
neighbors,  to  aid  them  became  less  and  less,  the  situation 
of  such  families  became  more  and  more  desperate,  and 
their  appeals  more  and  more  piteous  to  their  only  earthly 
helpers  who  were  far  away,  filling  their  places  in  "the 
thin  gray  line."  Meanwhile  the  enemy  sent  into  our 
camps,  often  by  our  own  pickets,  circulars  offering  our 
men  indefinite  parole,  with  free  transportation  to  their 
homes. 

I  am  not  condemning  the  Federal  Government  or  mili- 
tary authorities  for  making  these  offers  or  putting  out 
these  circulars ;  but  if  there  was  ever  such  a  thing  as  a 
conflict  of  duties,  that  conflict  was  presented  to  the  pri- 
vate soldiers  of  the  Confederate  army  who  belonged  to 
the  class  just  mentioned,  and  who  received,  perhaps  sim- 
ultaneously, one  of  these  home  letters  and  one  of  these 
Federal  circulars;   and  if  ever  the  strain  of  such  a  con- 


152  womdn  of*  the;  coni^eiddracy 

flict  was  great  enough  to  unsettle  a  man's  reason  and  to 
break  a  man's  heart  strings  these  men  were  subjected  to 
that  strain. 


TH^  01^  DRAKEJ'S  TERRITORY 
[J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

When  Sherman's  army  was  making  its  celebrated 
"march  to  the  sea,"  it  cut  a  swath  of  fire  and  desolation 
from  Atlanta  to  Savannah  and  on  through  the  Carolinas. 
What  food  was  not  seized  for  the  army  was  consumed  by 
fire.  Mills  and  barns  and  hundreds  of  dwellings  were 
consigned  to  the  flames.  Most  of  the  people  fled  from 
the  approach  of  the  Federals  and  especially  were  the  old 
men,  who  might  be  thought  by  negroes  and  bummers  to 
have  money  concealed  on  their  persons  or  premises, 
afraid  to  fall  into  their  hands.  Somewhere  not  far 
from  Milledgeville,  a  well-to-do  farmer  lay  hid  in  the 
woods  where  he  saw  the  Federals  enter  his  premises  and 
carry  off  everything  of  any  use  or  value.  Not  a  strip  of 
bedding,  not  an  ear  of  corn,  a  hough  of  a  cow  nor  the 
tail  of  a  pig  did  they  leave  him.  Before  the  Yankee  bri- 
gade got  entirely  out  of  sight  the  old  farmer  came  into 
his  desolate  home.  One  glance  at  the  wreck  and  away 
he  went  in  pursuit  of  the  Federals.  "Oh,  General,  Gen- 
eral, stop  your  command,"  was  the  cry.  On  they 
marched  without  hearing  him.  On  he  rushed  and  cried 
as  he  ran,  "Oh,  General,  oh.  General,  stop  your  com- 
mand." Finally  when  he  was  nearly  out  of  breath  the 
cry  was  heard  and  the  brigade  halted. 

"What's  the  matter,  man?"  said  the  soldiers,  as  he 
passed  on  by  them,  his  face  all  flushed  with  excitement. 

"Where's  the  General?" 

"Yonder  he  is,  sitting  on  that  black  horse." 

Everybody  stood  still  to  hear  the  breathless  message. 

"Oh,  General!" 

"Well,  what's  the  trouble,  sir?" 

"General,  your  men  have  been  yonder  to  my  house  and 
literally  ruined  me.     They  have  taken  everything  I  have 


WOMEN  OP  THE  CONFEDERACY  1 53 

on  God's  earth;  they  have  left  me  nothing  but  one  old 
drake,  and  he  says  he  is  very  lonesome,  and  he  wishes 
you  would  come  back  and  get  him." 

This  was  too  much  for  the  soldiers.  Up  went  a  shout 
of  laughter  and  a  yell  all  up  and  down  the  lines.  The 
general  was  completely  unhorsed  by  the  desperate  droll- 
ery of  the  old  farmer,  and  rolled  on  the  ground.  Calling 
the  man  to  him,  he  heard  more  of  his  story  and  finally 
had  a  list  made  of  all  the  property  which  had  been  taken 
from  him  and  had  it  all  sent  back  to  him,  and  the  old 
rebel  and  the  old  drake  felt  better. 

I  saw  much  of  that  old  drake's  territory.  It  was  the 
only  drake  or  fowl  of  any  kind  I  ever  heard  of  being  left 
by  Sherman's  bummers.  I  was  with  a  cavalry  company 
on  Sherman's  flanks  or  front  all  the  way  to  Savannah. 
Miles  and  miles  of  smoke  from  burning  houses,  barns, 
and  mills  could  be  seen  every  day  and  the  red  line  shone 
by  night.  He  did  not  burn  all  the  dwellings,  but  for 
months  and  years  there  stood  the  lone  chimneys  of  hun- 
dreds of  once  happy  homes.  These  chimneys  wer^ 
called  "Sherman's  sentinels."  As  he  said,  "War  is  hell." 
It  is  hell  when  conducted  on  the  devil's  plan  instead  of  the 
principles  of  civilized  warfare.  For  all  time  to  come  the 
march  of  Sherman  and  the  burning  of  the  Shenandoah 
Valley  by  Sheridan  will  cause  the  American  patriot, 
North  and  South,  to  hang  his  head  in  shame. 

The  women  and  children  in  the  burned  district  were,  in 
many  localities,  reduced  almost  to  starvation.  There  is 
a  lady  living  now  near  Blakely,  Ga.,  who,  as  a  little  girl 
fourteen  years  old,  walked  fifteen  miles  to  bring  a  half 
bushel  of  meal  for  her  mother's  family.  Some  of  the 
old  men  were  murdered.  The  body  of  old  Mr.  Brewer, 
of  Effingham  county,  father  of  Judge  Harlan  Brewer 
of  Waycross,  was  never  seen  by  his  family  after  he  was 
made  prisoner.  The  charred  remains  of  a  man  were 
found  in  a  burned  mill  not  far  away.  Sherman  was  the 
right  man  in  the  right  place.  He  had  lived  in  the  South 
as  a  teacher  and  knew  her  people ;  and  knew  that  in  fair 
and  honorable  warfare  the  South  never  could  be  sub- 
dued.    He  knew,  too,  the  devotion  of  Southern  men  to 


154  woM^N  OE'  The;  cone'ejdEracy 

home  and  family,  and  he  knew  that  the  quickest  way  to 
thin  the  Hnes  of  Lee  and  Johnston  was  to  fire  the  homes 
and  beggar  the  famihes  of  the  Confederate  soldiers.  As 
soon  as  I  saw  the  lines  of  his  fire  I  said  confidentially  to 
my  captain,  "Our  men  in  Virginia  can't  stand  this. 
Sherman  has  whipped  us  with  fire.  He  drives  the 
women  and  children  out  of  Atlanta  and  then  burns  the 
country  ahead  of  them.     Our  cause  is  lost."     And  it  was. 

"But   the   whole   world   was   against  us; 

We  fought  our  fight  alone; 
To  the  Conquerors  Want  and  Famine, 
We   laid   our   standard   down." 


the;  re:^ug^e:  in  Richmond 

[By  A  Lady  of  Virginia,  in  Diary  of  a  Refugee,  pages  252-254.] 

Prices  of  provisions  have  risen  enormously — bacon,  $8 
per  pound,  butter,  $15,  etc.     Our  old  friends  from  the 

lower  part  of  Essex,  Mr. 's  parishioners  for  many 

years,  sent  over  a  wagon  filled  most  generously  with  all 
manner  of  necessary  things  for  our  larder.  We  have  no 
right  to  complain,  for  Providence  is  certainly  supplying 
our  wants.  The  clerks'  salaries,  too,  have  been  raised  to 
$250  per  month,  which  sounds  very  large;  but  when  we 
remember  that  flour  is  $300  per  barrel,  it  sinks  into  insig- 
nificance. 

28th. — Our  hearts  ache  for  the  poor.  A  few  days 
ago,  as  E.  was  walking  out,  she  met  a  wretchedly  dressed 
woman,  of  miserable  appearance,  who  said  she  was  seek- 
ing the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  where  she 
hoped  to  get  assistance  and  work  to  do.  E.  carried  her  to 
the  door,  but  it  was  closed,  and  the  poor  woman's  wants 
were  pressing.  She  then  brought  her  home,  supplied  her 
with  food,  and  told  her  to  return  to  see  me  the  following 
afternoon.  She  came,  and  with  an  honest  countenance 
and  manner  told  me  her  history.  Her  name  was  Brown ; 
her  husband  had  been  a  workman  in  Fredericksburg ;  he 
joined  the  army,  and  was  killed  at  the  second  battle  of 
Manassas.     Many  of  her  acquaintances  in  Fredericks- 


woMtN  OP  THE  conpe:de;racy  155 

burg  fled  last  winter  during  the  bombardment;  she  be- 
came alarmed,  and  with  her  three  little  children  fled, 
too.  She  had  tried  to  get  work  in  Richmond ;  sometimes 
she  succeeded,  but  could  not  supply  her  wants,  A  kind 
woman  had  lent  her  a  room  and  a  part  of  a  garden,  but 
it  was  outside  of  the  corporation ;  and  although  it  saved 
house-rent,  it  debarred  her  from  the  relief  of  the  asso- 
ciations formed  for  supplying  the  city  poor  with  meal, 
wood,  etc.  She  had  evidently  been  in  a  situation  little 
short  of  starvation.  I  asked  her  if  she  could  get  bread 
enough  for  her  children  by  her  work?  She  said  she 
could  sometimes,  and  when  she  could  not,  she  "got  tur- 
nip-tops from  her  piece  of  a  garden,  which  were  now  put- 
ting up  smartly,  and  she  boiled  them,  with  a  little  salt, 
and  fed  them  on  that." 

"But  do  they  satisfy  their  hunger?"  said  I. 

"Well,  it  is  something  to  go  upon  for  awhile,  but  it 
does  not  stick  by  us  like  as  bread  does,  and  then  we  gets 
hungry  again,  and  I  am  afraid  to  let  the  children  eat 
them  to  go  to  sleep;  and  sometimes  the  woman  in  the 
next  room  will  bring  the  children  her  leavings,  but  she 
is  monstrous  poor." 

When  I  gave  her  meat  for  her  children,  taken  from  the 
bounty  of  our  Essex  friends,  tears  of  gratitude  ran  down 
her  cheeks;  she  said  they  "had  not  seen  meat  for  so 
long."  Poor  thing,  I  promised  her  that  her  case  should 
be  known,  and  that  she  should  not  suffer  so  again.  A 
soldier's  widow  shall  not  suffer  from  hunger  in  Rich- 
mond. It  must  not  be,  and  will  not  be  when  her  case  is 
known. 


DESOLATIONS  OE  WAR 
[Diary  of  a  Refugee,  pages  283-284.] 

When  the  war  is  over,  where  shall  we  find  our  old 
churches,  where  her  noble  homesteads,  scenes  of  domestic 
comfort  and  generous  hospitality?  Either  laid  low  by 
the  firebrand,  or  desecrated  and  desolated.  In  the  march 
of  the  army,  or  in  the  rapid  evolutions  of  raiding  parties, 


156  WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY 

woe  betide  the  houses  which  are  found  deserted.  In 
many  cases  the  men  of  the  family  having  gone  to  the 
war,  the  women  and  children  dare  not  stay;  then  the 
lawless  are  allowed  to  plunder.  They  seem  to  take  the 
greatest  delight  in  breaking  up  the  most  elegant  or  the 
most  humble  furniture,  as  the  case  may  be ;  cut  the  por- 
traits from  the  frames,  split  pianos  in  pieces,  ruin  libra- 
ries in  any  way  that  suits  their  fancy;  break  doors  from 
their  hinges,  and  locks  from  the  doors ;  cut  the  windows 
from  the  frames,  and  leave  no  pane  of  glass  unbroken; 
carry  off  house-linen  and  carpets;  the  contents  of  the 
store-rooms  and  pantries,  sugar,  flour,  vinegar,  molasses, 
pickles,  preserves,  which  cannot  be  eaten  or  carried  off, 
are  poured  together  in  one  general  mass.  The  horses  are 
of  course  taken  from  the  stables;  cattle  and  stock  of  all 
kinds  driven  off  or  shot  in  the  woods  and  fields.  Gener- 
ally, indeed,  I  believe  always,  when  the  whole  army  is 
moving,  inhabited  houses  are  protected.  To  raiders  such 
as  Hunter  and  Co.  is  reserved  the  credit  of  committing 
such  outrages  in  the  presence  of  ladies — of  taking  their 
watches  from  their  belts,  their  rings  from  their  fingers, 
and  their  ear-rings  from  their  ears;  of  searching  their 
bureaus  and  wardrobes,  and  filling  pockets  and  haver- 
sacks in  their  presence.  Is  it  not,  then,  wonderful  that 
soldiers  whose  families  have  suffered  such  things  could 
be  restrained  when  in  a  hostile  country  ?  It  seems  to  me 
to  show  a  marvellous  degree  of  forbearance  in  the  officers 
themselves  and  of  discipline  in  the  troops. 


DEATH  OE  A  SOI.DIER 
[Diary  of  a  Refugee,  pages  311-313-] 

An  officer  from  the  far  South  was  brought  in  mor- 
tally wounded.  He  had  lost  both  legs  in  a  fight  below 
Petersburg.  The  poor  fellow  suffered  excessively; 
could  not  be  still  a  moment ;  and  was  evidently  near  his 
end.     His  brother,  who  was  with  him,  exhibited  the  bit- 


WOMEN  01?  THE)  CONIfE:DERACY  1 5/ 

terest  grief,  watching  and  waiting  on  him  with  silent 

tenderness  and  flowing  tears.     Mr.  was  glad  to 

find  that  he  was  not  unprepared  to  die.  He  had  been  a 
professor  of  religion  some  years,  and  told  him  that  he 
was  suffering  too  much  to  think  on  that  or  any  other 
subject,  but  he  constantly  tried  to  look  to  God  for  mercy. 

Mr.  then  recognized  him,  for  the  first  time,  as  a 

patient  who  had  been  in  the  hospital  last  spring,  and 
whose  admirable  character  had  then  much  impressed  him. 
He  was  a  gallant  and  brave  officer,  yet  so  kind  and  gentle 
to  those  under  his  control  that  his  men  were  deeply  at- 
tached to  him,  and  the  soldier  who  nursed  him  showed 
his  love  by  his  anxious  care  of  his  beloved  captain. 
After  saying  to  him  a  few  words  about  Christ  and  his 
free  salvation,  offering  up  a  fervent  prayer  in  which  he 
seemed  to  join,  and  watching  the  sad  scene  for  a  short 

time,  Mr.  left  him  for  the  night.     The  surgeons 

apprehended  that  he  would  die  before  morning,  and  so  it. 
turned  out ;  at  the  chaplain's  early  call  there  was  nothing 
in  his  room  but  the  chilling  signal  of  the  empty  "hospital 
bunk."     He  was  buried  that  day,  and  we  trust  will  be 
found  among  the  redeemed  in  the  day  of  the  Lord. 

This,  it  was  thought,  would  be  the  last  of  this  good 
man;  but  in  the  dead  of  night  came  hurriedly  a  single 
carriage  to  the  gate  of  the  hospital.  A  lone  woman,  tall, 
straight,  and  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  got  out  quickly, 
and  moved  rapidly  up  the  steps  into  the  large  hall,  where, 
meeting  the  guard,  she  asked  anxiously,  "Where's  Cap- 
tain T.  ?" 

Taken  by  surprise,  the  man  answered  hesitatingly, 
"Captain  T.  is  dead,  madam,  and  was  buried  to-day." 

This  terrible  announcement  was  as  a  thunderbolt  at 
the  very  feet  of  the  poor  lady,  who  fell  to  the  floor  as 
one  dead.  Starting  up,  oh,  how  she  made  that  immense 
building  ring  with  her  bitter  lamentations.  Worn  down 
with  apprehension  and  weary  with  traveling  over  a  thou- 
sand miles  by  day  and  night,  without  stopping  for  a 
moment's  rest,  and  wild  with  grief,  she  could  hear  no 


158  WOME:n  op  THK  CONIfUDElRACY 

voice  of  sympathy — she  regarded  not  the  presence  of  one 
or  many ;  she  told  the  story  of  her  married  life  as  if  she 
were  alone — how  her  husband  was  the  best  man  that  ever 
lived;  how  everybody  loved  him;  how  kind  he  was  to 
all;  how  devoted  to  herself;  how  he  loved  his  children, 
took  care  of,  and  did  everything  for  them;  how,  from 
her  earliest  years  almost,  she  had  loved  him  as  herself; 
how  tender  he  was  of  her,  watching  over  her  in  sickness, 
never  seeming  to  weary  of  it,  never  to  be  unwilling  to 
make  any  sacrifice  for  her  comfort  and  happiness;  how 
that,  when  the  telegraph  brought  the  dreadful  news  that 
he  was  dangerously  wounded,  she  never  waited  an  instant 
nor  stopped  a  moment  by  the  way,  day  nor  night,  and 
now — "I  drove  as  fast  as  the  horses  could  come  from  the 
depot  to  this  place,  and  he  is  dead  and  buried.  I  never 
shall  see  his  face  again.  What  shall  I  do?  But  where 
is  he  buried  ?" 

They  told  her  where. 

"I  must  go  there;  he  must  be  taken  up;  I  must  see 
him." 

"But,  madam,  you  can't  see  him;  he  has  been  buried 
some  hours." 

"But  I  must  see  him ;  I  can't  live  without  seeing  him ; 
I  must  hire  some  one  to  go  and  take  him  up;  can't  you 
get  some  one  to  take  him  up?  I'll  pay  him  well;  just 
get  some  men  to  take  him  up.  I  must  take  him  home; 
he  must  go  home  with  me.  The  last  thing  I  said  to  his 
children  was  that  they  must  be  good  children,  and  I 
would  bring  their  father  home,  and  they  are  waiting  for 
him  now.  He  must  go,  I  can't  go  without  him ;  I  can't 
meet  his  children  without  him ;"  and  so,  with  her  woman's 
heart,  she  could  not  be  turned  aside — nothing  could  alter 
her  purpose. 

The  next  day  she  had  his  body  taken  up  and  embalmed. 
She  watched  by  it  until  everything  was  ready,  and  then 
carried  him  back  to  his  own  house  and  children,  only  to 
seek  a  grave  for  the  dead  father  close  by  those  he  loved, 
among  kindred  and  friends  in  the  fair  sunny  land  he  died 
to  defend. 


WOMEN  01^  THE  CONFEDERACY  1 59 

MRS.   HENRIETTA  E.   LEE's  EETTER  TO  GENERAIv  HUNTER 

ON  THE  BURNING  OE  HER  HOUSE 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  8,  pages  215-216.] 

The  following  burning  protest  against  a  cruel  wrong 
deserves  to  be  put  on  record,  as  a  part  of  the  history  of 
General  David  Hunter's  inglorious  campaign  in  the  Val- 
ley of  Virginia,  and  we  cheerfully  comply  with  the  re- 
quest of  a  distinguished  friend  to  publish  it.  The  burn- 
ing of  this  house  and  those  of  Col.  A.  R.  Boteler  and 
Andrew  Hunter,  esq.,  in  the  lower  valley,  and  of  Gov- 
ernor Letcher's  and  the  Virginia  Military  Institute  at 
Lexington  give  him  a  place  in  the  annals  of  infamy  only 
equaled  by  the  contempt  felt  for  his  military  achieve- 
ments : 

Jeeeerson  County,  July  20,  1864. 

General  Hunter: 

Yesterday  your  underling.  Captain  Martindale,  of  the 
First  New  York  Cavalry,  executed  your  infamous  order 
and  burned  my  house.  You  have  had  the  satisfaction  ere 
this  of  receiving  from  him  the  information  that  your 
orders  were  fulfilled  to  the  letter ;  the  dwelling  and  every 
out-building,  seven  in  number,  with  their  contents,  being 
burned.  I,  therefore,  a  helpless  woman  whom  you  have 
cruelly  wronged,  address  you,  a  Major-General  of  the 
United  States  army,  and  demand  why  this  was  done? 
What  was  my  offence?  My  husband  was  absent,  an 
exile.  He  had  never  been  a  politician  or  in  any  way  en- 
gaged in  the  struggle  now  going  on,  his  age  preventing. 
This  fact  your  chief  of  staff,  David  Strother,  could  have 
told  you.  The  house  was  built  by  my  father,  a  Revolu- 
tionary soldier,  who  served  the  whole  seven  years  for 
your  independence.  There  was  I  born ;  there  the  sacred 
dead  repose.  It  was  my  house  and  my  home,  and  there 
has  your  niece  (Miss  Griffith),  who  has  tarried  among 
us  all  this  horrid  war  up  to  the  present  time,  met  with  all 
kindness  and  hospitality  at  my  hands.  Was  it  for  this 
that  you  turned  me,  my  young  daughter,  and  little  son 
out  upon  the  world  without  a  shelter  ?  Or  was  it  because 
my  husband  is  the  grandson  of  the  Revolutionary  patriot 


l60  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

and  "rebel,"  Richard  Henry  Lee,  and  the  near  kinsman 
of  the  noblest  of  Christian  warriors,  the  greatest  of  gen- 
erals, Robert  E.  Lee?  Heaven's  blessing  be  upon  his 
head  forever.  You  and  your  Government  have  failed  to 
conquer,  subdue,  or  match  him;  and  disappointment, 
rage,  and  malice  find  vent  on  the  helpless  and  inoffensive. 

Hyena-like,  you  have  torn  my  heart  to  pieces!  for  all 
hallowed  memories  clustered  around  that  homestead,  and 
demon-like,  you  have  done  it  without  even  the  pretext  of 
revenge,  for  I  never  saw  or  harmed  you.  Your  office  is 
not  to  lead,  like  a  brave  man  and  soldier,  your  men  to 
fight  in  the  ranks  of  war,  but  your  work  has  been  to  sep- 
arate yourself  from  all  danger,  and  with  your  incendiary 
band  steal  unaware  upon  helpless  women  and  children,  to 
insult  and  destroy.  Two  fair  homes  did  you  yesterday 
ruthlessly  lay  in  ashes,  giving  not  a  moment's  warning  to 
the  startled  inmates  of  your  wicked  purpose;  turning 
mothers  and  children  out  of  doors,  you  are  execrated  by 
your  own  men  for  the  cruel  work  you  give  them  to  do. 

In  the  case  of  Colonel  A.  R.  Boteler,  both  father  and 
mother  were  far  away.  Any  heart  but  that  of  Captain 
Martindale  (and  yours)  would  have  been  touched  by  that 
little  circle,  comprising  a  widowed  daughter  just  risen 
from  her  bed  of  illness,  her  three  fatherless  babies — the 
oldest  not  five  years  old — and  her  heroic  sister.  I  re- 
peat, any  man  would  have  been  touched  at  that  sight  but 
Captain  Martindale.  One  might  as  well  hope  to  find 
mercy  and  feeling  in  the  heart  of  a  wolf  bent  on  his  prey 
of  young  lambs,  as  to  search  for  such  qualities  in  his 
bosom.  You  have  chosen  well  your  agent  for  such 
deeds,  and  doubtless  will  promote  him. 

A  colonel  of  the  Federal  army  has  stated  that  you  de- 
prived forty  of  your  officers  of  their  commands  because 
they  refused  to  carry  on  your  malignant  mischief.  All 
honor  to  their  names  for  this,  at  least!  They  are  men; 
they  have  human  hearts  and  blush  for  such  a  commander ! 

I  ask  who  that  does  not  wish  infamy  and  disgrace  at- 
tached to  him  forever  would  serve  under  you?  Your 
name  will  stand  on  history's  page  as  the  Hunter  of  weak 
women,  and  innocent  children,  the  Hunter  to  destroy  de- 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONEEDERACY  i6i 

fenceless  villages  and  refined  and  beautiful  homes — to 
torture  afresh  the  agonized  hearts  of  widows ;  the  Hun- 
ter of  Africa's  poor  sons  and  daughters,  to  lure  them  on 
to  ruin  and  death  of  soul  and  body ;  the  Hunter  with  the 
relentless  heart  of  a  wild  beast,  the  face  of  a  fiend  and  the 
form  of  a  man.  Oh,  Earth,  behold  the  monster!  Can 
I  say,  "God  forgive  you?"  No  prayer  can  be  offered 
for  you.  Were  it  possible  for  human  lips  to  raise  your 
name  heavenward,  angels  would  thrust  the  foul  thing 
back  again,  and  demons  claim  their  own.  The  curses  of 
thousands,  the  scorns  of  the  manly  and  upright,  and  the 
hatred  of  the  true  and  honorable,  will  follow  you  and 
yours  through  all  time,  and  brand  your  name  infamy! 
infamy ! 

Again,  I  demand  why  you  have  burned  my  home? 
Answer  as  you  must  answer  before  the  Searcher  of  all 
hearts,  why  have  you  added  this  cruel,  wicked  deed  to 
your  many  crimes? 


Sherman's  bummers 

[E.  J.  Hale,  Jr.] 

EayettevieeE,  N.  C,  July  31st,  1865. 

My  Dear  Generae  : 

It  would  be  impossible  to  give  you  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  destruction  of  property  in  this  good  old  town.  It 
may  not  be  an  average  instance,  but  it  is  one,  the  force 
of  whose  truth  we  feel  only  too  fully.  My  father's  prop- 
erty, before  the  war,  was  easily  convertible  into  about 
$85,000  to  $100,000  in  specie.  He  has  not  now  a  par- 
ticle of  property  which  will  bring  him  a  dollar  of  income. 
His  office,  with  everything  in  it,  was  burned  by  Sher- 
man's order.  Slocum,  who  executed  the  order,  with  a 
number  of  other  generals,  sat  on  the  veranda  of  a  hotel 
opposite  watching  the  progress  of  the  flames,  while  they 
hobnobbed  over  wines  stolen  from  our  cellar.     A  fine 


1 62  WOMEN  oif  THE)  con?i:de;racy 

brick  building  adjacent,  also  belonging  to  my  father,  was 
burned  at  the  same  time.  The  cotton  factory,  of  which 
he  was  a  large  shareholder,  was  burned,  while  his  bank, 
railroad,  and  other  stocks  are  worse  than  worthless,  for 
the  bank  stock,  at  least,  may  bring  him  in  debt,  as  the 
stockholders  are  responsible.  In  fact,  he  has  nothing 
left,  besides  the  ruins  of  his  town  buildings  and  a  few 
town  lots  which  promise  to  be  of  little  value  hereafter, 
in  this  desolated  town,  and  are  of  no  value  at  present, 
save  his  residence,  which  (with  brother's  house)  Sherman 
made  a  great  parade  of  saving  from  a  mob  (composed  of 
corps  and  division  commanders,  a  nephew  of  Henry 
Ward  Beecher,  and  so  on  down,)  by  sending  to  each 
house  an  officer  of  his  staff,  after  my  brother's  had  been 
pillaged  and  my  father's  to  some  extent.  By  some  acci- 
dental good  fortune,  however,  my  mother  secured  a 
guard  before  the  "bummers"  had  made  much  progress  in 
the  house,  and  to  this  circumstance  we  are  indebted  for 
our  daily  food,  several  months'  supply  of  which  my  father 
had  hid  the  night  before  he  left,  in  the  upper  rooms  of 
the  house,  and  the  greater  part  of  which  was  saved. 

You  have,  doubtless,  heard  of  Sherman's  "bummers." 
The  Yankees  would  have  you  believe  that  they  were  only 
the  straggling  pillagers  usually  found  with  all  armies. 
Several  letters  written  by  officers  of  Sherman's  army,  in- 
tercepted near  this  town,  give  this  the  lie.  In  some  of 
these  letters  were  descriptions  of  the  whole  burning  proc- 
ess, and  from  them  it  appears  that  it  was  a  regularly  or- 
ganized system,  under  the  authority  of  General  Sherman 
himself;  that  one-fifth  of  the  proceeds  fell  to  General 
Sherman,  another  fifth  to  the  other  general  officers, 
another  fifth  to  the  line  officers,  and  the  remaining  two- 
fifths  to  the  enlisted  men.  There  were  pure  silver  bum- 
mers, plated-ware  bummers,  jewelry  bummers,  women's 
clothing  bummers,  provision  bummers,  and,  in  fine,  a 
bummer  or  bummers  for  every  kind  of  stealable  thing. 
No  bummer  of  one  specialty  interfering  with  the  steal- 
ables  of  another.  A  pretty  picture  of  a  conquering  army, 
indeed,  but  true. 


WOMEN  OE  THD  CONFEDERACY  163 

REMINISCENCES  OE  THE  WAR  TIMES — A  EETTER 
[B.  Winston,  in  Confederate  Scrap-Book.] 

SiGNAiv  HiLiy,  February  2yth. 

My  Dear  :    Your  very  kind  letter  received. 

I  delayed  perhaps  too  long  replying.  I  have  hunted  up  a 
few  little  things.  We  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  have 
nearly  all  our  war  relics  burnt  in  an  outhouse,  so  I  have 
little  left  unless  I  took  what  I  remember.  We  were  left 
so  bare  of  everything  at  that  time.  Our  only  pokers  and 
tongs  were  pokers  and  ramrods;  old  canteens  came  into 
domestic  service ;  we  made  our  shoes  of  parts  of  old  can- 
vas tents,  and  blackened  them  with  elderberry  juice  (the 
only  ink  we  could  command  was  elderberry  juice)  ;  we 
plaited  our  hats  of  straw  (I  have  a  straw-splinter  now, 
for  which  I  gave  $13;  it  did  good  service)  ;  the  inside 
corn-shuck  made  dainty  bonnets;  sycamore  balls,  satu- 
rated with  grease,  made  excellent  tapers,  though  nothing 
superseded  the  time-honored  lightwood  knots. 

The  Confederate  army  was  camped  around  us  for 
months  together.  We  often  had  brilliant  assemblages 
of  officers.  On  one  occasion,  when  all  went  merry  as  a 
marriage-bell,  and  uniformed  officers  and  lovely  girls 
wound  in  and  out  in  the  dance,  a  sudden  stillness  fell — 
few  words,  sudden  departures.  The  enemy  were  in  full 
force,  trying  to  effect  a  crossing  at  a  strategic  point.  We 
were  left  at  daybreak  in  the  Federal  camp,  a  sharp  en- 
gagement around  us — the  beginning  of  the  seven  days' 
fight  around  Richmond.  It  was  a  bright,  warm  day  in 
May.  An  unusual  stillness  brooded  over  everything.  A 
few  officers  came  and  went,  looking  grave  and  impor- 
tant. In  a  short  time,  from  a  dense  body  of  pines  near  us, 
curled  the  blue  smoke,  and  volley  after  volley  of  musketry 
succeeded  in  sharp  succession,  the  sharp,  shrill  scream  of 
flying  shells  falling  in  the  soft  green  of  the  growing 
wheat.  Not  long,  and  each  opposing  army  emerged 
from  ambush  and  stood  in  the  battle's  awful  array.  Our 
own  forces  (mostly  North  Carolinians)  fell  back  into  a 
railroad  cut.  The  tide  of  battle  swept  past  us,  but  the 
day  was  lost  to  us.     At  evening  they  brought  our  dead 


164  WOMEIN  OJ*  THEJ  CONIfE:DE;RACY 

and  wounded  and  made  a  hospital  of  our  house.  Then 
came  the  amputating  surgeon  to  finish  what  the  bullet 
had  failed  to  do.  Arms  and  legs  lay  in  a  promiscuous 
heap  on  our  back  piazza. 

On  another  occasion  I  saw  a  sudden  surprise  in  front 
of  our  house.  A  regiment  of  soldiers,  under  General 
Rosser's  command,  were  camped  around  us.  It  was 
high,  blazing  noon.  The  soldiers,  suspecting  nothing, 
were  in  undress,  lying  down  under  every  available 
shadow,  when  a  sudden  volley  and  shout  made  every  man 
spring  to  his  feet.  The  enemy  were  all  around  them, 
and  panic  was  amongst  our  men ;  they  were  running,  but 
as  they  rose  a  little  knoll  every  man  turned,  formed,  and 
fired.     I  saw  some  poor  fellows  fall. 


AUNT  MYRA  AND  TH:^  HOE-CAKS 
[In  Our  Women  in  the  War,  pages  419-420.] 

Another  instance  was  that  of  an  old  lady.  Small  and 
fragile-looking,  with  soft  and  gentle  manners,  it  seemed 
as  if  a  whiff  of  wind  might  have  blown  her  away,  and  she 
was  not  one  who  was  likely  to  tempt  the  torrent  of  a 
ruffian's  wrath.  But  how  often  can  we  judge  of  appear- 
ances, for  in  that  tiny  body  was  a  spirit  as  strong  and 
fearless  as  the  bravest  in  the  land.  The  war  had  been 
a  bitter  reality  to  her.  One  son  had  been  brought  home 
shattered  by  a  shell,  and  for  long  months  she  had  seen  him 
in  the  agony  which  no  human  tongue  can  describe ;  while 
another,  in  the  freshness  of  his  young  manhood,  had  been 
numbered  with  the  slain.  She  was  a  widow,  and  having 
the  care  of  two  orphan  grandchildren  upon  her,  was  ex- 
periencing the  same  difficulty  in  obtaining  food  that  we 
were.  One  morning  she  had  made  repeated  efforts  to 
get  something  cooked,  but  failed  as  often  as  she  tried,  for 
just  as  soon  as  it  was  ready  to  be  eaten  in  walked  a  Fed- 
eral soldier  and  marched  off  with  it,  expostulations  or  en- 
treaties availing  naught.  Finally,  after  some  difficulty,  a 
little  corn  meal  was  found  which  was  mixed  with  a  hoe- 
cake  and  set  in  the  oven  to  bake.    Determined  not  to  lose 


WOMEN  OP  the;  coni^dddracy  165 

this,  Aunt  Myra,  the  lady  in  question,  took  her  seat  before 
the  fire  and  vowed  she  would  not  leave  the  spot  until  the 
bread  was  safe  in  her  own  hands.  Scarcely  had  she  done 
so  when,  as  usual,  a  soldier  made  his  appearance,  and, 
seeing  the  contents  of  the  oven,  took  his  seat  on  the  oppo- 
site side  and  coolly  waited  its  baking.  I  have  since 
thought  what  a  picture  for  a  painter  that  would  make — 
upon  one  side  the  old  lady  with  the  proud,  high-born  face 
of  a  true  Southern  gentlewoman,  but,  alas !  stamped  with 
the  seal  of  care  and  sorrow ;  and  upon  the  other,  the  man, 
strong  in  his  assumed  power,  both  intent  upon  that  one 
point  of  interest,  a  baking  hoe-cake.  When  it  had 
reached  the  desired  shade  of  browning.  Aunt  Myra 
leaned  forward  to  take  possession,  but  ere  she  could  do  so 
that  other  hand  was  before  her  and  she  saw  it  taken  from 
her.  Rising  to  her  feet  and  drawing  her  small  figure  to 
its  fullest  height,  the  old  lady's  pent  up  feelings  burst 
forth,  and  she  gave  expression  to  the  indignation  which 
"this  last  act  caused  to  overflow." 

"You  thieving  scoundrel!"  she  cried  in  her  gathering 
wrath.  "You  would  take  the  very  last  crust  from  the 
orphans'  mouths  and  doom  them  to  starvation  before 
your  very  eyes." 

Then,  before  the  astonished  man  could  recover  him- 
self, with  a  quick  movement  she  had  snatched  the  bread 
back  again.  Scarcely  had  she  got  possession,  however, 
when  a  revulsion  of  feeling  took  place,  and,  breaking  it  in 
two,  tossed  them  at  him  in  the  scorn  which  filled  her  soul 
as  she  said :  "But  if  your  heart  is  hard  enough  to  take  it, 
then  you  may  have  it." 

She  threw  them  with  such  force  that  one  of  the  hot 
pieces  struck  him  in  the  face,  the  other  immediately  fol- 
lowing. Strange  to  say,  he  did  not  resent  her  treatment 
of  him;  but  it  was  too  much  for  Aunt  Myra's  excited 
feelings  when  he  picked  up  the  bread,  and  commenced 
munching  upon  it  in  the  most  unconcerned  manner  pos- 
sible. Again  snatching  it  from  him,  she  flung  it  far  out 
of  the  window,  where  it  lay  rolling  in  dirt,  crying  as  she 
did  so :  "Indeed,  you  shan't  eat  it ;  if  I  can't  have  it,  then 
you  shan't." 


1 66  woM^N  oj*  The  coni^kdkracy 

"tR^  CORN  woman" 
[Our  Women  in  the  War,  page  276.] 

"The  corn  woman"  was  a  feature  of  the  times.  The 
men  in  the  counties  north  of  us  were  mostly  farmers, 
owning  small  farms  which  they  worked  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  family.  Few  owned  slaves,  and  they  planted 
garden  crops  chiefly.  The  men  were  now  in  the  army, 
and  good  soldiers  many  of  them  made.  During  the  last 
two  years,  for  various  reasons,  many  of  the  wives  of 
these  soldiers  failed  in  making  a  crop,  and  were  sent  with 
papers  from  the  probate  judges  to  the  counties  south  to 
get  corn.  No  doubt  these  were  really  needy,  and  they 
were  supplied  abundantly,  and  then,  thinking  it  an  easy 
way  to  make  a  living,  others  not  needing  help  came. 
They  neglected  to  plant  crops,  as  it  was  far  more  easy  to 
beg  all  the  corn  they  wanted  than  to  work  it.  Women 
whose  husbands  were  at  home,  who  never  had  been  in 
the  army,  young  girls  and  old  women  came  in  droves — 
all  railroad  cars  and  steamboats  were  filled  with  "corn 
women." 

They  came  twenty  and  thirty  together,  got  off  at  the 
stations  and  landings  for  miles,  visiting  every  plantation 
and  never  failing  to  get  their  sacks  filled  and  sent  to  the 
depot  or  river  for  them.  Some  had  bedticks ;  one  came 
to  me  with  a  sack  over  two  yards  long  and  one  yard  wide 
that  would  have  held  ten  bushels  of  corn,  and  she  had 
several  like  it.  They  soon  became  perfect  nuisances. 
When  you  objected  to  giving  they  abused  you;  they  no 
longer  brought  papers ;  when  we  had  no  corn  to  spare  we 
gave  them  money,  which  they  said  they  would  rather 
have.  It  would  save  the  trouble  of  toting  corn,  and  they 
could  buy  it  at  home  for  the  money.  I  once  gave  them 
twenty-five  dollars,  all  I  had  in  the  house  at  the  time, 
"Well,  this  won't  go  to  buy  much  corn,  but  as  far  as  it 
do  go  we's  obliged  to  you,"  were  the  thanks.  I  saw  a 
party  of  them  on  a  steamboat  counting  their  money. 
They  had  hundreds  of  dollars  and  a  quantity  of  corn. 
The  boats  and  railroads  took  them  free.  I  was  afterward 
told  by  a  railroad  official  that  their  husbands  and  fathers 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  1 67 

met  them  at  the  depot  and  either  sold  the  corn  or  took  it 
to  the  stills  and  made  it  into  whiskey.  They  hated  the 
army  and  all  in  it  and  despised  the  negro,  who  returned 
the  compliment  with  interest.  The  very  sight  of  a  corn 
woman  made  them  and  the  overseers  angry.  They  re- 
garded them  as  they  did  the  army  worm. 


GENERAL,  ATKINS  AT  CHAPEE   HIEE 
[In  East  Ninety  Days  of  the  War,  page  33.] 

While  the  command  of  General  Atkins  remained  in 
Chapel  Hill — a  period  of  nearly  three  weeks — 'the  same 
work,  with  perhaps  some  mitigation,  was  going  on  in 
the  country  round  us,  and  around  the  city  of  Raleigh, 
which  had  marked  the  progress  of  the  Federal  armies  all 
through  the  South.  Planters  having  large  families  of 
white  and  black  were  left  without  food,  forage,  cattle,  or 
change  of  clothing.  Being  in  camp  so  long,  bedding  be- 
came an  object  with  the  marauders ;  and  many  wealthy 
families  were  stripped  of  what  the  industry  of  years  had 
accumulated  in  that  line.  Much  of  what  was  so  wan- 
tonly taken  was  as  wantonly  destroyed  and  squandered 
among  the  prostitutes  and  negroes  who  haunted  the 
camps.  As  to  Raleigh,  though  within  the  corporate  lim- 
its, no  plundering  of  the  houses  was  allowed;  yet  in  the 
suburbs  and  the  country  the  policy  of  permitting  it  to  its 
widest  extent  was  followed. 


TWO  SPECIMEN  CASES  OE  DESERTION 
[Heroes  in  the  Furnace;    Southern  Historical  Papers.] 

We  by  no  means  excuse  or  palliate  desertion  to  the 
enemy,  which  is  universally  recognized  as  one  of  the 
basest  crimes  known  to  military  law ;  but  most  of  the  de- 
sertions from  the  Confederate  army  occurred  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  war,  and  many  of  them  were 
brought  about  by  the  most  heart-rending  letters  from 


1 68  WOMEN  oE  the;  confederacy 

home,  telling  of  suffering,  and  even  starving  families,  and 
we  cannot  class  these  cases  with  those  who  deserted  to 
join  the  enemy,  or  to  get  rid  of  the  hardships  and  dan- 
gers of  the  army.  Some  most  touching  cases  came 
under  our  observation,  but  we  give  only  the  following  in- 
cidents as  illustrating  many  other  cases. 

A  distinguished  major-general  in  the  Western  army 
has  given  us  this  incident.  A  humble  man  but  very  gal- 
lant soldier  from  one  of  the  Gulf  States,  had  enlisted  on 
the  assurance  of  a  wealthy  planter  that  he  would  see  his 
young  wife  and  child  should  not  lack  for  support. 

The  brave  fellow  had  served  his  country  faithfully, 
until  one  day  he  received  a  letter  from  his  wife,  saying 
that  the  rich  neighbor  who  had  promised  to  keep  her  from 
want  now  utterly  refused  to  give  or  to  sell  her  anything 
to  eat,  unless  she  would  submit  to  the  basest  proposals 
which  he  was  persistently  making  her,  and  that  unless  he 
could  come  home  she  saw  nothing  but  starvation  before 
her  and  his  child.  The  poor  fellow  at  once  applied  for  a 
furlough,  and  was  refused.  He  then  went  to  the  gallant 
soldier  who  is  my  informant  and  stated  the  case  in  full, 
and  told  him  that  he  must  and  would  go  home  if  he  was 
shot  for  it  the  day  he  returned.  The  general  told  him 
while  he  could  not  give  him  a  permit,  he  did  not  blame 
him  for  his  determination. 

The  next  day  he  was  reported  "absent  without  leave," 
and  was  hurrying  to  his  home.  He  moved  his  wife  and 
child  to  a  place  of  safety  and  made  provision  for  their 
support.  Then  returning  to  the  neighborhood  of  his 
home,  he  caught  the  miscreant  who  had  tried  to  pollute 
the  hearthstone  of  one  who  was  risking  his  life  for  him, 
dragged  him  into  the  woods,  tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  ad- 
ministered to  him  a  flogging  that  he  did  not  soon  forget. 
The  brave  fellow  then  hurried  back  to  his  regiment, 
joined  his  comrades  just  as  they  were  going  into  battle, 
and  behaved  with  such  conspicuous  gallantry  as  to  make 
all  forget  that  he  had  ever,  even  for  a  short  time,  been  a 
"deserter." 

The  other  incident  which  we  shall  give  was  related  by 


wome;n  of  the;  coni^eiddracy  169 

General  C.  A.  Battle,  in  a  speech  at  Tuscumbia,  Ala.,  and 
is  as  follows : 

During  the  winter  of  1862-3  it  was  my  fortune  to  be 
president  of  one  of  the  courts-martial  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia.  One  bleak  December  morning,  while 
the  snow  covered  the  ground  and  the  winds  howled 
around  our  camp,  I  left  my  bivouac  fire  to  attend  the 
session  of  the  court.  Winding  for  miles  along  uncertain 
paths,  I  at  length  arrived  at  the  court-ground  at  Round 
Oak  church.  Day  after  day  it  had  been  our  duty  to  try 
the  gallant  soldiers  of  that  army  charged  with  violations 
of  military  law;  but  never  had  I  on  any  previous  occa- 
sion been  greeted  by  such  anxious  spectators  as  on  that 
morning  awaited  the  opening  of  the  court.  Case  after 
case  was  disposed  of,  and  at  length  the  case  of  "The  Con- 
federate States  vs.  Edward  Cooper"  was  called;  charge, 
desertion.  A  low  murmur  rose  spontaneously  from  the 
battle-scarred  spectators  as  a  young  artilleryman  rose 
from  the  prisoner's  bench,  and,  in  response  to  the  ques- 
tion, "Guilty  or  not  guilty?"  answered,  "Not  guilty." 

The  judge  advocate  was  proceeding  to  open  the  prose- 
cution, when  the  court,  observing  that  the  prisoner  was 
unattended  by  counsel,  interposed  and  inquired  of  the 
accused,  "Who  is  your  counsel?" 

He  replied,  "I  have  no  counsel." 

Supposing  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  represent  himself 
before  the  court,  the  judge-advocate  was  instructed  to 
proceed.  Every  charge  and  specification  against  the 
prisoner  was  sustained. 

The  prisoner  was  then  told  to  introduce  his  witnesses. 

He  replied,  "I  have  no  witnesses." 

Astonished  at  the  calmness  with  which  he  seemed  to  be 
submitting  to  what  he  regarded  as  inevitable  fate,  I  said 
to  him,  "Have  you  no  defence?  Is  it  possible  that  you 
abandoned  your  comrades  and  deserted  your  colors  in  the 
presence  of  the  enemy  without  any  reason?" 

He  replied,  "There  was  a  reason,  but  it  will  not  avail 
me  before  a  military  court." 

I  said,  "Perhaps  you  are  mistaken;  you  are  charged 
with  the  highest  crime  known  to  military  law,  and  it  is 


170  womkn  o^  thk  confkddracy 

your  duty  to  make  known  the  causes  that  influenced  your 
actions." 

For  the  first  time  his  manly  form  trembled  and  his 
blue  eyes  swam  in  tears.  Approaching  the  president  of 
the  court,  he  presented  a  letter,  saying,  as  he  did  so, 
"There,  colonel,  is  what  did  it,"  I  opened  the  letter, 
and  in  a  moment  my  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

It  was  passed  from  one  to  another  of  the  court  until  all 
had  seen  it,  and  those  stern  warriors  who  had  passed  with 
Stonewall  Jackson  through  a  hundred  battles  wept  like 
little  children.  Soon  as  I  sufficiently  recovered  my  self- 
possession,  I  read  the  letter  as  the  prisoner's  defence.  It 
was  in  these  words : 

My  Dear  Edward:  I  have  always  been  proud  of  you,  and  since 
your  connection  with  the  Confederate  army  I  have  been  prouder  of 
you  than  ever  before.  I  would  not  have  you  do  anything  wrong  for 
the  world ;  but  before  God,  Edward,  unless  you  come  home  we  must 
die !  Last  night  I  was  aroused  by  little  Eddie's  crying.  I  called 
and  said,  "What's  the  matter,  Eddie?"  and  he  said,  "Oh,  mamma, 
I'm  so  hungry!"  And  Lucy,  Edward,  your  darling  t,ucy,  she  never 
complains,  but  she  is  growing  thinner  and  thinner  every  day.  And 
before  God,  Edward,  unless  you  come  home  we  must  die. 

Your  Mary. 

Turning  to  the  prisoner,  I  asked,  "What  did  you  do 
when  you  received  this  letter?" 

He  replied,  "I  made  application  for  a  furlough,  and  it 
was  rejected;  again  I  made  application,  and  it  was  re- 
jected; and  that  night,  as  I  wandered  backward  and 
forward  in  the  camp,  thinking  of  my  home,  with  the  mild 
eyes  of  Lucy  looking  up  to  me,  and  the  burning  words  of 
Mary  sinking  in  my  brain,  I  was  no  longer  the  Confed- 
erate soldier,  but  I  was  the  father  of  Lucy  and  the  hus- 
band of  Mary,  and  I  would  have  passed  those  lines  if 
every  gun  in  the  battery  had  fired  upon  me.  I  went  to 
my  home.  Mary  ran  out  to  meet  me,  her  angel  arms  em- 
braced me,  and  she  whispered,  'O,  Edward,  I  am  so  hap- 
py !  I  am  so  glad  you  got  your  furlough !'  She  must 
have  felt  me  shudder,  for  she  turned  pale  as  death,  and, 
catching  her  breath  at  every  word,  she  said,  'Have  you 
come  without  your  furlough?  O,  Edward,  Edward,  go 
back !   go   back !     Let   me   and   my   children   go   down 


WOMJ^N  01^  TH^  CONFDDKRACY  17I 

together  to  the  grave,  but  O,  for  heaven's  sake,  save  the 
honor  of  our  name!  And  here  I  am,  gentlemen,  not 
brought  here  by  mihtary  power,  but  in  obedience  to  the 
command  of  Mary,  to  abide  the  sentence  of  your  court." 
Every  officer  of  that  court-martial  felt  the  force  of  the 
prisoner's  words.  Before  them  stood,  in  beatific  vision, 
the  eloquent  pleader  for  the  husband's  and  father's 
wrongs ;  but  they  had  been  trained  by  their  great  leader, 
Robert  E.  Eee,  to  tread  the  path  of  duty  though  the  light- 
ning's flash  scorched  the  ground  beneath  their  feet,  and 
each  in  his  turn  pronounced  the  verdict:  "Guilty." 
Fortunately  for  humanity,  fortunately  for  the  Confeder- 
acy, the  proceedings  of  the  court  were  reviewed  by  the 
commanding-general,  and  upon  the  record  was  written : 

Headquarters  Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 
The  finding  of  the  court  is  approved.    The  prisoner  is  pardoned, 
and  will  report  to  his  company. 

R.  E.  Lee,  General. 

During  a  subsequent  battle,  when  shot  and  shell  werp 
falling  "like  torrents  from  the  mountain  cloud,"  my  at- 
tention was  directed  to  the  fact  that  one  of  our  batteries 
was  being  silenced  by  the  concentrated  fire  of  the  enemy. 
When  I  reached  the  battery  every  gun  but  one  had  been 
dismantled,  and  by  it  stood  a  solitary  soldier,  with  the 
blood  streaming  from  his  side.  As  he  recognized  me, 
he  elevated  his  voice  above  the  roar  of  battle,  and  said, 
"General,  I  have  one  shell  left.  Tell  me,  have  I  saved  the 
honor  of  Mary  and  Lucy?"  I  raised  my  hat.  Once 
more  a  Confederate  shell  went  crashing  through  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy,  and  the  hero  sank  by  his  gun  to  rise 
no  more. 


SHERMAN  IN   SOUTH   CAROUNA 
[Cornelia    B.    Spencer,   in   Last   Days   of   the    War,   pages    29-31.] 

A  letter  dated  Charleston,  September  14,  1865,  written 
by  Rev.  Dr.  John  Bachman,  then  pastor  of  the  Lutheran 
Church  in  that  city,  presents  many  facts  respecting  the 
devastation  and  robberies  by  the  enemy  in  South  Caro- 


172  wome;n  oj?  The;  coni^dderacy 

lina.    So  much  as  relates  to  the  march  of  Sherman's  army- 
through  parts  of  the  State  is  here  presented : 

"When  Sherman's  army  came  sweeping  through  Caro- 
hna,  leaving  a  broad  track  of  desolation  for  hundreds  of 
miles,  whose  steps  were  accompanied  with  fire,  and  sword, 
and  blood,  reminding  us  of  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
Duke  of  Alva,  I  happened  to  be  at  Cash's  Depot,  6  miles 
from  Cheraw.  The  owner  was  a  widow,  Mrs.  Ellerbe, 
71  years  of  age.  Her  son,  Colonel  Cash,  was  absent.  I 
witnessed  the  barbarities  inflicted  on  the  aged,  the  widow, 
and  young  and  delicate  females.  Officers,  high  in  com- 
mand, were  engaged  tearing  from  the  ladies  their 
watches,  their  ear  and  wedding  rings,  the  daguerreotypes 
of  those  they  loved  and  cherished.  A  lady  of  delicacy 
and  refinement,  a  personal  friend,  was  compelled  to  strip 
before  them,  that  they  might  find  concealed  watches  and 
other  valuables  under  her  dress.  A  system  of  torture 
was  practiced  toward  a  weak,  unarmed,  and  defenceless 
people  which,  as  far  as  I  know  and  believe,  was  universal 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  that  invading  army. 
Before  they  arrived  at  a  plantation,  they  inquired  the 
names  of  the  most  faithful  and  trustworthy  family  ser- 
vants; these  were  immediately  seized,  pistols  were  pre- 
sented at  their  heads ;  with  the  most  terrific  curses,  they 
were  threatened  to  be  shot  if  they  did  not  assist  them  in 
finding  buried  treasures.  If  this  did  not  succeed,  they 
were  tied  up  and  cruelly  beaten.  Several  poor  creatures 
died  under  the  infliction.  The  last  resort  was  that  of 
hanging,  and  the  officers  and  men  of  the  triumphant  army 
of  General  Sherman  were  engaged  in  erecting  gallows  and 
hanging  up  these  faithful  and  devoted  servants.  They 
were  strung  up  until  life  was  nearly  extinct,  when  they 
were  let  down,  suffered  to  rest  awhile,  then  threatened 
and  hung  up  again.  It  is  not  surprising  that  some  should 
have  been  left  hanging  so  long  that  they  were  taken  down 
dead.  Coolly  and  deliberately  these  hardened  men  pro- 
ceeded on  their  way,  as  if  they  had  perpetrated  no  crime, 
and  as  if  the  God  of  heaven  would  not  pursue  them  with 
his  vengeance.  But  it  was  not  alone  the  poor  blacks  (to 
whom  they  professed  to  come  as  liberators)   that  were 


WOMKN  01?  THE)  CONI^EDDRACY  1 73 

thus  subjected  to  torture  and  death.  Gentlemen  of  high 
character,  pure  and  honorable  and  gray-headed,  uncon- 
nected with  the  military,  were  dragged  from  their  fields 
or  beds,  and  subjected  to  this  process  of  threats,  beating, 
and  hanging.  Along  the  whole  track  of  Sherman's  army 
traces  remain  of  the  cruelty  and  inhumanity  practiced  on 
the  aged  and  the  defenceless.  Some  of  those  who  were 
hung  up  died  under  the  rope,  while  their  cruel  murderers 
have  not  only  been  left  unreproached  and  unhung,  but 
have  been  hailed  as  heroes  and  patriots." 


OI.D  NORTH  state's  TRIAIyS 
[Cornelia  P.  Spencer,  in  Last  Ninety  Days  of  the  War,  pages  95-97.] 

By  January,  1865,  there  was  very  little  room  for 
"belief"  of  any  sort  in  the  ultimate  success  of  the  Con- 
federacy. All  the  necessaries  of  life  were  scarce,  and 
were  held  at  fabulous  and  still  increasing  prices.  The 
great  freshet  of  January  loth,  which  washed  low  grounds, 
carried  off  fences,  bridges,  mills,  and  tore  up  railroads  all 
through  the  central  part  of  the  State,  at  once  doubled  the 
price  of  corn  and  flour.  Two  destructive  fires  in  the 
same  months,  which  consumed  great  quantities  of  govern- 
ment stores  at  Charlotte  and  at  Salisbury,  added  materi- 
ally to  the  general  gloom  and  depression.  The  very  ele- 
ments seemed  to  have  enlisted  against  us.  And  soon,  with 
no  great  surplus  of  food  from  the  wants  of  her  home  pop- 
ulation, North  Carolina  found  herself  called  upon  to  fur- 
nish supplies  for  two  armies.  Early  in  January  an  urgent 
and  most  pressing  appeal  was  made  for  Lee's  army ;  and 
the  people,  most  of  whom  knew  not  where  they  would  get 
bread  for  their  children  in  three  months'  time,  responded 
nobly,  as  they  had  always  done  to  any  call  for  "the  sol- 
diers." Few  were  the  hearts  in  any  part  of  the  land  that 
did  not  thrill  at  the  thought  that  those  who  were  fighting 
for  us  were  in  want  of  food.  From  a  humble  cabin  on 
the  hill-side,  where  the  old  brown  spinning-wheel  and  the 
rude  loom  were  the  only  breastworks  against  starvation, 


174  wome;n  01!*  this  coni^^ddracy 

up  through  all  grades  of  life,  there  were  none  who  did 
not  feel  a  deep  and  tender,  almost  heartbreaking  solici- 
tude for  our  noble  soldiers.  For  them  the  last  barrel  of 
flour  was  divided,  the  last  luxury  in  homes  that  had  once 
abounded  cheerfully  surrendered.  Every  available  re- 
source was  taxed,  every  expedient  of  domestic  economy 
was  put  into  practice — as,  indeed,  had  been  done  all 
along;  but  our  people  went  to  work  even  yet  with  fresh 
zeal.  I  speak  now  of  central  North  Carolina,  where 
many  families  of  the  highest  respectability  and  refinement 
lived  for  months  on  corn-bread,  sorghum,  and  peas ; 
where  meat  was  seldom  seen  on  the  table,  tea  and  coffee 
never,  where  dried  apples  and  peaches  were  a  luxury; 
where  children  went  barefoot  through  winter,  and  ladies 
made  their  own  shoes,  and  wove  their  own  homespuns; 
where  the  carpets  were  cut  up  into  blankets,  and  window- 
curtains  and  sheets  were  torn  up  for  hospital  uses; 
where  the  soldiers'  socks  were  knit  day  and  night,  while 
for  home  service  clothes  were  twice  turned,  and  patches 
were  patched  again ;  and  all  this  continually,  and  with  an 
energy  and  a  cheerfulness  that  may  well  be  called  heroic. 

There  were  localities  in  the  State  where  a  few  rich 
planters  boasted  of  having  "never  felt  the  war;"  there 
were  ladies  whose  wardrobes  encouraged  the  blockade- 
runners,  and  whose  tables  were  still  heaped  with  all  the 
luxuries  they  had  ever  known.  There  were  such  doubt- 
less in  every  State  in  the  Confederacy.  I  speak  not  now 
of  these,  but  of  the  great  body  of  our  citizens — the  mid- 
dle class  as  to  fortune,  generally  the  highest  as  to  cultiva- 
tion and  intelligence — these  were  the  people  who  denied 
themselves  and  their  little  ones,  that  they  might  be  able 
to  send  relief  to  the  gallant  men  who  lay  in  the  trenches 
before  Petersburg,  and  were  even  then  living  on  crackers 
and  parched  corn. 

The  fall  of  Fort  Fisher  and  the  occupation  of  Wilming- 
ton, the  failure  of  the  peace  commission,  and  the  un- 
checked advance  of  Sherman's  army  northward  from 
Savannah,  were  the  all-absorbing  topics  of  discussion 
with  our  people  during  the  first  months  of  the  year  1865. 
The  tide  of  war  was  rolling  in  upon  us.     Hitherto  our 


WOMEN  OP  THE  CONFEDERACY  1 75 

privations,  heavily  as  they  had  borne  upon  domestic  com- 
fort, had  been  Hght  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  peo- 
ple in  the  States  actually  invaded  by  the  Federal  armies ; 
but  now  we  were  to  be  qualified  to  judge,  by  our  own  ex- 
perience, how  far  their  trials  and  losses  had  exceeded 
ours.  What  the  fate  of  our  pleasant  towns  and  villages 
and  of  our  isolated  farm-houses  would  be  we  could  easily 
read  by  the  light  of  the  blazing  roof-trees  that  lit  up  the 
path  of  the  advancing  army.  General  Sherman's  prin- 
ciples were  well  known,  for  they  had  been  carefully  laid 
down  by  him  in  his  letter  to  the  Mayor  of  Atlanta,  Sep- 
tember, 1864,  and  had  been  thoroughly  put  in  practice 
by  him  in  his  further  progress  since.  To  shorten  the  war 
by  increasing  its  severity :  this  was  his  plan — simple,  and 
no  doubt  to  a  certain  extent  effective. 


SHERMAN  IN  NORTH  CAROLINA  ■ 

[Cornelia  P.  Spencer,  in  Last  Ninety  Days  of  the  War,  pages  214-215.] 

General  Sherman's  reputation  had  preceded  him,  and 
the  horror  and  dismay  with  which  his  approach  was  anti- 
cipated in  the  country  were  fully  warranted.  The  town 
itself  was  in  a  measure  defended,  so  to  speak,  by  General 
Schofield's  preoccupation ;  but  in  the  vicinity  and  for 
twenty  miles  around  the  country  was  most  thoroughly 
plundered  and  stripped  of  food,  forage,  and  private  prop- 
erty of  every  description.  One  of  the  first  of  General 
Sherman's  own  acts,  after  his  arrival,  was  of  peculiar 
hardship.  One  of  the  oldest  and  most  venerable  citizens 
of  the  place,  with  a  family  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  children 
and  grandchildren,  most  of  them  females,  was  ordered, 
on  a  notice  of  a  few  hours,  to  vacate  his  house,  which  of 
course  was  done.  The  gentleman  was  nearly  80  years 
old,  and  in  very  feeble  health.  The  outhouses,  fences, 
grounds,  etc.,  were  destroyed,  and  the  property  greatly 
damaged  during  its  occupation  by  the  general.  Not  a 
farm-house  in  the  country  but  was  visited  and  wantonly 
robbed.     Many  were  burned,  and  very  many,  together 


176  WOMEN  05*  The:  CONlfljDERACY 

with  outhouses,  were  pulled  down  and  hauled  into  camps 
for  use.  Generally  not  a  live  animal,  not  a  morsel  of 
food  of  any  description  was  left,  and  in  many  instances 
not  a  bed  or  sheet  or  change  of  clothing  for  man,  woman, 
or  child.  It  was  most  heartrending  to  see  daily  crowds 
of  country  people,  from  three  score  and  ten  years  down 
to  the  unconscious  infant  carried  in  its  mother's  arms, 
coming  into  the  town  to  beg  food  and  shelter,  to  ask 
alms  from  those  who  had  despoiled  them.  Many  of  these 
families  lived  for  days  on  parched  corn,  on  peas  boiled 
in  water  without  salt,  or  scraps  picked  up  about  the 
camps.  The  number  of  carriages,  buggies,  and  wagons 
brought  in  is  almost  incredible.  They  kept  for  their 
own  use  what  they  wished,  and  burned  or  broke  up  the 
rest.  General  Logan  and  staff  took  possession  of  seven 
rooms  in  the  house  of  John  C.  Slocumb,  esq.,  the  gentle- 
man of  whose  statements  I  avail  myself.  Every  assur- 
ance of  protection  was  given  to  the  family  by  the  quarter- 
master ;  but  many  indignities  were  offered  to  the  inmates, 
while  the  house  was  effectually  stripped  as  any  other  of 
silver  plate,  watches,  wearing  apparel,  and  money. 
Trunks  and  bureaus  were  broken  open  and  the  contents 
abstracted.  Not  a  plank  or  rail  or  post  or  paling  was 
left  anywhere  upon  the  grounds,  while  fruit  trees,  vines, 
and  shrubbery  were  wantonly  destroyed.  These  officers 
remained  nearly  three  weeks,  occupying  the  family  beds, 
and  when  they  left  the  bed-clothes  also  departed. 

It  is  very  evident  that  General  Sherman  entered  North 
Carolina  with  the  confident  expectation  of  receiving  a 
welcome  from  its  Union-loving  citizens.  In  Major 
Nichol's  "Story  of  the  Great  March,"  he  remarks,  on 
crossing  the  line  which  divides  South  from  North 
Carolina : 

The  conduct  of  the  soldiers  is  perceptibly  changed.  I  have  seen 
no  evidence  of  plundering;  the  men  keep  their  ranks  closely;  and 
more  remarkable  yet,  not  a  single  column  of  the  fire  or  smoke, 
which  a  few  days  ago  marked  the  positions  of  the  heads  of  columns, 
can  be  seen  upon  the  horizon.  Our  men  seem  to  understand  that 
they  are  entering  a  State  which  has  suffered  for  its  Union  sentiment, 
and  whose  inhabitants  would  gladly  embrace  the  old  flag  again  if 
they  can  have  the  opportunity,  which  we  mean  to  give  them. . 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  I77 

But  the  town  meeting  and  war  resolutions  of  the 
people  of  Fayetteville,  the  fight  in  her  streets,  and  Gov- 
ernor Vance's  proclamation,  soon  undeceived  them,  and 
their  amiable  dispositions  were  speedily  corrected  and 
abandoned. 


MRS.  Vance's  trunk — general  palmer's  gallantry 

[Cornelia  B.   Spenser,  in   Southern  Historical   Papers.] 

On  the  road  from  Statesville  a  part  of  the  command 
was  dispatched  in  the  direction  of  Lincolnton,  under  Gen- 
eral Palmer.  Of  this  officer  the  same  general  account  is 
given  as  of  General  Stoneman,  that  he  exhibited  a 
courtesy  and  forbearance  which  reflected  honor  on  his 
uniform,  and  have  given  him  a  just  claim  to  the  respect 
and  gratitude  of  our  western  people.  The  following 
pleasant  story  is  a  sample  of  his  way  of  carrying  on  war 
with  ladies :  Mrs.  Vance,  the  wife  of  the  governor,  had 
taken  refuge,  from  Raleigh,  in  Statesville  with  her  chil- 
dren. On  the  approach  of  General  Stoneman's  army, 
she  sent  of¥  to  Lincolnton,  for  safety,  a  large  trunk  filled 
with  valuable  clothing,  silver,  etc.,  and  among  other 
things  two  thousand  dollars  in  gold,  which  had  been 
entrusted  to  her  care  by  one  of  the  banks.  This  trunk 
was  captured  on  the  road  by  Palmer's  men,  who  of 
course  rejoiced  exceedingly  over  this  finding  of  spoil, 
more  especially  as  belonging  to  the  rebel  General  Vance. 
Its  contents  were  speedily  appropriated  and  scattered. 
But  the  circumstances  coming  to  General  Palmer's 
knowledge,  within  an  hour's  time  he  had  every  article 
and  every  cent  collected  and  replaced  in  the  trunk,  which 
he  then  immediately  sent  back  under  guard  to  Mrs. 
Vance  with  his  compliments.  General  Palmer  was  aim- 
ing for  Charlotte  when  he  was  met  by  couriers  announc- 
ing news  of  the  armistice. 
12 


178  WOMEN  OE  THE)  CONEEDKRACY 

THE)  KVENTEUL  THIRD  01^  APRII. 

[Correspondent  of  New  York  Herald,  Southern  Historical  Papers.] 

It  was  known  about  this  time  to  the  people  of  Richmond 
that  the  negro  troops  in  the  Union  army  had  requested 
General  Grant  to  give  them  the  honor  of  being  the  first 
to  enter  the  fallen  capital.  The  fact  gave  rise  to  a  fear 
that  they  would  unite  with  the  worst  class  of  resident 
negroes  and  burn  and  sack  the  city.  When,  therefore, 
the  black  smoke  and  lurid  flames  arose  on  that  eventful 
3d  of  April,  caused  by  the  Confederates  themselves,  the 
terror-stricken  inhabitants  at  first  thought  their  fears 
were  to  be  realized,  but  were  soon  relieved  when  they  saw 
the  manful  fight  made  by  many  of  the  negroes  and  Union 
troops  to  suppress  the  flames.  At  no  time  did  they  fear 
their  own  servants ;  indeed,  I  was  afterwards  assured 
that  the  many  negroes  who  filled  the  streets  and  wel- 
comed the  Union  troops  would  have  resisted  any  attack 
upon  the  households  of  their  old  masters. 

The  behavior  of  many  of  the  old  family  servants  was 
very  marked  in  the  care  and  great  solicitude  shown  by 
them  for  their  masters  during  this  trying  period.  As  an 
amusing  instance  of  this,  I  will  tell  you  this  incident : 

An  old  lady  had  a  very  bright,  good-looking  maid  ser- 
vant, to  whom  some  of  the  Union  officers  had  shown  con- 
siderable attention  by  taking  her  out  driving.  The  girl 
came  in  one  morning  and  asked  her  old  mistress  if  she 
would  not  take  a  drive  with  her  in  the  hack  which  stood 
at  the  door,  with  her  sable  escort  in  waiting.  Doubtless 
this  was  done  not  in  a  spirit  of  irony,  but  really  in  feeling 
for  her  old  mistress. 

In  another  family,  on  the  day  the  troops  entered  the 
city,  when  all  the  males  had  fled,  leaving  several  young 
ladies  with  their  mother  alone,  "Old  Mammy,"  the  faith- 
ful nurse,  was  posted  at  the  front  door  with  the  baby  in 
her  arms,  while  the  trembling  females  locked  themselves 
in  an  upper  room.  When  the  hurrahing,  wild  Union 
troops  passed  along,  many  straggled  into  the  house  and 
asked  where  the  white  ladies  were. 

"Old  Mammy"  replied:    "Dis  is  de  only  white  lady; 


womkn  op  the:  conJ'ederacy  179 

all  de  rest  ar'  culled  ladies,"  and  she  laughed  and  tossed 
up  the  baby,  which  seemed  to  please  the  soldiers,  who 
chucked  the  baby  and  passed  on. 

Spartan  Richmond  Ladies 

The  ladies  of  Richmond  who  bore  such  an  active  part 
on  that  terrible  3d  of  April,  many  of  whom  with  black- 
ened faces  mounted  the  tops  of  their  roofs,  and  with  their 
faithful  servants  swept  off  the  flying  firebrands  as  they 
were  wafted  over  the  city,  or  bore  in  their  arms  the  sick 
to  places  of  safety,  or  sent  words  of  comfort  to  their  hus- 
bands and  their  sons  who  were  battling  against  the 
flames — these  were  the  true  women  of  the  South,  who 
had  never  given  up  the  hope  of  final  victory  until  Lee 
laid  down  his  sword  at  Appomattox.  They  were  calm 
even  in  defeat;  and  though  strong  men  lost  their  reason 
and  shed  tears  in  maniacal  grief  over  the  destruction  of 
their  beautiful  city,  yet  her  noble  women  still  stood  un- 
flinching, facing  all  dangers  with  heroism  that  has  never* 
been  equalled  since  the  days  of  Sparta. 

Sauntering  along  the  street,  making  a  few  purchases 
preparatory  to  leaving  the  doomed  city,  I  was  suddenly 
accosted  by  a  friend,  who  with  trembling  voice  and  terri- 
fied countenance  exclaimed : 

"Sir,  I  have  just  heard  that  the  Petersburg  and  Wel- 
don  railroad  will  be  cut  by  the  Yankees  in  a  few  days. 
My  daughter,  who  is  in  North  Carolina,  will  be  made 
a  prisoner.    I  will  give  all  I  have  to  get  her  home." 

I  saw  the  intense  anguish  of  the  father,  and  learning 
that  he  could  not  get  a  pass  to  go  through  Petersburg,  I 

said,  "Mr.  T ,  if  you  will  pay  my  expenses,  I  will 

have  your  daughter  here  in  two  days." 

He  overwhelmed  me  with  thanks,  crammed  my  pockets 
full  of  Confederate  notes,  filled  my  haversack  with 
rations  for  several  days,  and  I  left  next  morning  for 
Petersburg.  The  train  not  being  allowed  to  enter  the 
city,  we  had  to  make  a  mile  or  more  in  a  conveyance  of 
some  kind  at  an  exorbitant  price.  Learning  that  the 
Weldon  train  rzn  only  at  night  for  fear  of  the  Yankee 
batteries,  which  were  alarmingly  near,  I  had  time  to  in- 


l8o  WOMDN  0^  THE  CONI^EDKRACY 

spect  the  city.  I  found  here  a  marked  contrast  to  Rich- 
mond. As  I  passed  along  its  streets,  viewing  the  marks 
of  shot  and  shell  on  every  side,  hearing  now  and  then  the 
heavy,  sullen  boom  of  the  enemy's  guns,  seeing  on  every 
hand  the  presence  of  war,  I  noticed  its  business  men  had, 
nevertheless,  a  calm,  determined  look.  Its  streets  were 
filled  with  women  and  children,  who  seemed  to  know  no 
fear,  though  at  any  moment  a  shrieking  shell  might  dash 
among  them,  but  each  eye  would  turn  in  loving  confidence 
to  the  Confederate 'flag  which  floated  over  the  headquar- 
ters of  General  Lee,  feeling  that  they  were  secure  as  long 
as  he  was  there. 

That  night,  when  all  was  quiet  and  darkness  reigned, 
with  not  a  light  to  be  seen,  our  train  quietly  slipped  out 
of  the  city,  like  a  blockade-runner  passing  the  batteries. 
The  passengers  viewed  in  silence  the  flashing  of  the  guns 
as  they  were  trying  to  locate  the  train.  It  was  a  moment 
of  intense  excitement,  but  on  we  crept,  until  at  last  the 
captain  came  along  with  a  lantern  and  said,  "All  right!" 
and  we  breathed  more  freely ;  but  from  the  proximity  of 
the  batteries,  I  surmised  that  it  would  not  be  "all  right" 
many  days  hence. 

Hastening  on  my  journey,  I  found  the  young  lady, 
and  telling  her  she  must  face  the  Yankee  batteries  if  she 
would  see  her  home,  I  found  her  even  enthusiastic  at  the 
idea,  and  we  hastily  left,  though  under  protest  of  her 
friends. 

Returning  by  the  same  route — which,  indeed,  was  the 
only  one  now  left — we  approached  to  within  five  miles  of 
Petersburg  and  waited  for  darkness.  The  lights  were 
again  extinguished,  the  passengers  warned  to  tuck  their 
heads  low,  which  in  many  cases  was  done  by  lying  flat 
on  the  floor,  and  then  we  began  the  ordeal,  moving  very 
slowly,  sometimes  halting,  at  every  moment  fearing  a 
shell  from  the  belching  batteries,  which  had  heard  the 
creaking  of  the  train  and  were  "feeling"  for  our  position. 
The  glare  and  the  boom  of  the  guns,  the  dead  silence 
broken  only  by  a  sob  from  some  terrified  heart,  all  filled 
up  a  few  moments  of  time  never  to  be  forgotten. 

But  we  entered  the  city  safely  just  as  the  moon  was 


WOMEN  OP  THE  CONFEDERACY  l8l 

rising,  and  the  next  morning  I  handed  my  friend  his 
daughter.  A  few  days  after  the  batteries  closed  the  gap 
on  the  Weldon  road,  cutting  off  Petersburg  and  Rich- 
mond from  the  South,  and  compelhng  General  Lee  to 
prepare  for  retreat. 


THE  FEDERALS  ENTER  RICHMOND 
[Phoebe  Y.  Pember.] 

Before  the  day  was  over  the  public  buildings  were  oc- 
cupied by  the  enemy,  and  the  minds  of  the  citizens  re- 
lieved from  all  fear  of  molestation.  The  hospitals  were 
attended  to,  the  ladies  being  still  allowed  to  nurse  and 
care  for  their  own  wounded;  but  rations  could  not  be 
drawn  yet,  the  obstructions  in  the  James  River  preventing 
the  transports  from  coming  up  to  the  city.  In  a  few  days 
they  arrived,  and  food  was  issued  to  those  in  need.  It 
had  been  a  matter  of  pride  among  the  Southerners  to 
boast  that  they  had  never  seen  a  greenback,  so  the  en? 
trance  of  the  Federal  army  had  thus  found  them  entirely 
unprepared  with  gold  and  silver  currency.  People  who 
had  boxes  of  Confederate  money  and  were  wealthy  the 
day  previously  looked  around  in  vain  for  wherewithal  to 
buy  a  loaf  of  bread.  Strange  exchanges  were  made  on 
the  street  of  tea  and  coffee,  flour,  and  bacon.  Those  who 
were  fortunate  in  having  a  stock  of  household  necessaries 
were  generous  in  the  extreme  to  their  less  wealthy  neigh- 
bors, but  the  destitution  was  terrible.  The  sanitary  com- 
mission shops  were  opened,  and  commissioners  appointed 
by  the  Federals  to  visit  among  the  people  and  distribute 
orders  to  draw  rations,  but  to  effect  this,  after  receiving 
tickets,  required  so  many  appeals  to  different  officials, 
that  decent  people  gave  up  the  effort.  Besides,  the  musty 
cornmeal  and  strong  codfish  were  not  appreciated  by  fas- 
tidious stomachs;  few  gently  nutured  could  relish  such 
unfamiliar  food. 

But  there  was  no  assimilation  between  the  invaders  and 
invaded.  In  the  daily  newspapers  a  notice  had  appeared 
that  the  military  bands  would  play  in  the  beautiful  capitol 


i82  WOMEN  OP  The;  conis'iJdiIracy 

grounds  every  afternoon,  but  when  the  appointed  hour 
arrived,  except  the  Federal  officers,  musicians  and 
soldiers,  not  a  white  face  was  to  be  seen.  The  negroes 
crowded  every  bench  and  path.  The  next  week  another 
notice  was  issued  that  the  colored  population  would  not 
be  admitted ;  and  then  the  absence  of  everything  and  any- 
thing feminine  was  appalling.  The  entertainers  went 
alone  to  their  own  entertainment.  The  third  week  still 
another  notice  appeared :  "Colored  nurses  were  to  be 
admitted  with  their  white  charges,"  and  lo,  each  for- 
tunate white  baby  received  the  cherished  care  of  a  dozen 
finely  dressed  black  ladies,  the  only  drawback  being  that 
in  two  or  three  days  the  music  ceased  altogether,  the 
entertainers  feeling  at  last  the  ingratitude  of  the  subju- 
gated people. 

Despite  their  courtesy  of  manner — for,  however  des- 
potic the  acts,  the  Federal  authorities  maintained  a  re- 
spectful manner — the  newcomers  made  no  advance 
toward  fraternity.  They  spoke  openly  and  warmly  of 
their  sympathy  with  the  sufferings  of  the  South,  but 
committed  and  advocated  acts  that  the  hearers  could  not 
recognize  as  "military  necessities."  Bravely-dressed 
Federal  officers  met  their  former  old  classmates  from 
colleges  and  military  institutions  and  inquired  after  the 
relatives  to  whose  houses  they  had  ever  been  welcome  in 
days  of  yore,  expressing  a  desire  to  "call  and  see  them ;" 
while  the  vacant  chairs,  rendered  vacant  by  Federal  bul- 
lets, stood  by  the  hearth  of  the  widow  and  bereaved 
mother.  They  could  not  be  made  to  understand  that 
their  presence  was  painful.  There  were  but  few  men  in 
the  city  at  this  time;  but  the  women  of  the  South  still 
fought  their  battles  for  them:  fought  it  resentfully, 
calmly,  but  silently.  Clad  in  their  mourning  garments, 
overcome,  but  hardly  subdued,  they  sat  within  their  deso- 
late homes,  or  if  compelled  to  leave  that  shelter  went  on 
their  errands  to  church  or  hospital  with  veiled  faces  and 
swift  steps.  By  no  sign  or  act  did  the  possessors  of  their 
fair  city  know  that  they  were  even  conscious  of  their 
presence.  If  they  looked  in  their  faces  they  saw  them 
not;    they  might  have  supposed  themselves  a  phantom 


WOMlSN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  1S3 

army.  There  was  no  stepping  aside  with  affectation  to 
avoid  the  contact  of  dress ;  no  feigned  humihty  in  giving 
the  inside  of  the  walk ;  they  simply  totally  ignored  their 
presence. 


SOMEBODY  S  DAREING 
[In  Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  152-154.] 

Our  best  and  brightest  young  men  were  passing  away. 
Many  of  them,  the  most  of  them,  were  utter  strangers  to 
us ;  but  the  wounded  soldier  ever  found  a  warm  place  in 
our  hearts,  and  they  were  strangers  no  more.  A  South- 
ern lady  has  written  some  beautiful  lines,  suggested  by 
the  death  of  a  youthful  soldier  in  one  of  our  hospitals. 
So  deeply  touching  is  the  sentiment,  and  such  the  ex- 
quisite pathos  of  the  poetry,  that  we  shall  insert  them  in 
our  memorial  to  those  sad  times.  When  all  sentiment 
was  well  nigh  crushed  out,  which  courts  the  visit  of  the 
nurse,  these  lines  sent  a  thrill  of  ecstasy  to  our  hearts, 
and  comfort  and  sweetness  to  the  bereaved  in  many  far- 
off  homes  of  the  South.  Of  "Somebody's  Darling,"  she 
writes : 

Into  a  ward  of  the  whitewashed  halls 

Where  the  dead  and  dying  lay; 
Wounded  by  bayonets,   shells,  and  balls. 

Somebody's  darling  was  borne  one  day. 
Somebody's  darling,  so  young  and  so  brave, 

Wearing  yet  on  his  sweet,  pale  face. 
Soon  to  be  laid  in  the  dust  of  the  grave. 

The   lingering  light  of   his  boyhood's   grace. 

Matted  and  damp  are  the  curls  of  gold. 

Kissing  the  snow  of  that  fair  young  brow; 
Pale  are  the  lips  of  delicate  mould. 

Somebody's  darling  is  dying  now! 
Back  from  his  beautiful  blue-veined  brow, 

Brush  the  wandering  waves  of  gold; 
Cross  his  hands  on  his  bosom  now— 

Somebody's  darling  is  still  and  cold. 

Kiss  him  once,  for  somebody's  sake, 

Murmur  a  prayer,  soft  and  low. 
One  bright  curl  from  its  fair  mates  take. 

They    were    somebody's   pride,    you    know. 
Somebody's    hand    hath    rested   there. 

Was   it   a   mother's,   soft   and   white; 
Or  have  the  lips  of  a  sister  fair 

Been  baptized  in  their  waves  of  light? 


184  WOMEN  Olf  The:  CONi^E^DE^RACY 

God  knows  best!     He  has  somebody's  love, 

Somebody's  heart  enshrined  him  there; 
Somebody  wafted  his  name  above, 

Night  and  morn,  on  the  wings  of  prayer. 
Somebody  wept  when  he  marched  away, 

Looking  so  handsome,  brave  and  grand! 
Somebody's  kiss  on  his  forehead  lay, 

Somebody  clung  to  his  parting  hand. 

Somebody's  waiting,  and  watching  for  him, 

Yearning  to  hold  him  again  to  her  heart, 
And  there  he  lies — with  his  blue  eyes  dim, 

And  his  smiling,  child-like  lips  apart! 
Tenderly  bury  the  fair  young  dead. 

Pausing  to  drop  o'er  his  grave  a  tear; 
Carve  on  the  wooden  slab  at  his  head, 

"  'Somebody's  darling'  is  lying  here!" 


CHAPTER  IV 


THEIR  PLUCK  y      ^ 

I* 

EEMAI^E  RECRUITING  OEEICERS 
[J.  Iv.  Underwood.] 

The  young  women  and  girls  brightly  and  cordially 
cheered  every  Confederate  volunteer.  Nothing  was  too 
good  for  him,  and  smiles  of  sisterly  esteem  and  love  met 
him  at  every  turn.  There  was  a  sort  of  intoxication  in 
the  welcome  and  applause  that  everywhere  greeted  the 
young  volunteer.  To  many  it  was  full  pay  for  the  sacri- 
fice. Many  an  expectant  bride  sadly  but  resolutely  post- 
poned marriage,  and  sent  her  affianced  lover  to  the 
army.  ♦ 

"Wouldst  thou  have  me  love  thee,  dearest, 

With  a  woman's  proudest  heart, 
Which  shall  ever  hold  thee  nearest, 
Shrined  in  its  inmost  part? 

"Listen,  then!      My  country's  calling 

On  her  sons  to  meet  the  foe! 
Leave  these  groves  of  rose  and  myrtle; 
Like  young  Koerner,  scorn  the  turtle 

When    the    eagle   screams   above." 

But  there  were  many  young  men  who  did  not  want 
to  hear  Koerner's  war  eagle  scream.  They  wanted  a 
battle,  but  they  wanted  to  "smell  it  afar  off."  They  be- 
lieved in  the  righteousness  of  the  war  more  strongly  than 
anybody.  Yes,  many  of  them  were  the  first  to  don  the 
blue  cockade  of  the  "minute  men;"  that  is,  the  militia 
organized  with  the  avowed  object  of  fighting  on  a 
moment's  warning.  They  were  ever  so  ready  to  be 
soldiers  at  home  for  a  "minute,"  but  held  back  when  it 
came  to  volunteering  for  six  months,  a  year,  or  three 
years.  Then  the  young  women  would  turn  loose  their 
little  tongues,  and  their  jeers  and  sarcasm  would  drive 
the  skulker  clear  out  of  their  society,  and  eventually  in 


1 86  WOMEjN  OF  THi;  CONPI^D^RACY 

self-defense  he  would  have  to  "jine  the  cavalry,"  or  In- 
fantry one,  to  get  away  from  the  darts  of  woman's 
tongue.    A  hornet  could  not  sting  like  that  little  tongue. 

One  of  these  girls  was  a  lone  sister,  with  many  broth- 
ers, in  a  very  wealthy  family,  which  we  will  call  the  De- 
Lanceys,  in  one  of  the  richest  counties  of  Alabama.  A 
cavalry  company  had  been  organized  and  drilled  for  the 
war,  but  not  a  DeLancey's  name  was  on  the  roll.  The 
company  was  to  leave  the  home  camp  for  the  front.  The 
whole  county  gathered  to  cheer  them  and  bid  them  good- 
bye. Presents  and  honors  were  showered  upon  the 
young  patriots.  The  sister  mentioned  above  owned  a 
very  fine  favorite  horse,  named  "Starlight,"  which  she 
presented  to  the  company  in  a  touching  little  speech, 
which  brought  tears  to  many  eyes,  and  which  wound  up 
with  the  following  apostrophe,  "Farewell,  Starlight! 
I  may  never  see  you  again ;  but,  thank  God,  you  are  the 
bravest  of  the  DeLanceys." 

All  through  the  war  cowards  were  between  two  fires, 
that  of  the  Federals  at  the  front  and  that  of  the  women 
in  the  rear. 


MRS.  SUSAN  ROY  CARTDR 

[Thomas  Nelson  Page.} 

Old  Mathews  and  Gloucester,  Virginia,  as  they  are 
affectionately  termed  by  those  who  knew  them  in  the  old 
times,  were  filled  with  colonial  families  and  were  the 
home  of  a  peculiarly  refined  and  aristocratic  society. 
Miss  Roy  was  the  daughter  of  William  H.  Roy,  esq., 
of  "Green  Plains,"  Mathews  county,  and  of  Anne  Sed- 
don,  a  sister  of  Hon.  James  A.  Seddon,  Secretary  of  War 
of  the  Confederate  States.  She  was  a  noted  beauty  and 
belle,  even  in  a  society  that  was  known  throughout  Vir- 
ginia for  its  charming  and  beautiful  women.  Her  loveli- 
ness, radiant  girlhood,  and  early  womanhood  is  still 
talked  of  among  the  survivors  of  that  time.  Old  men, 
who  have  seen  the  whole  order  of  society  in  which  they 
spent   their   youths   pass    from   the   scene,    still    refresh 


WOMEN  01?  The  confederacy  187 

themselves  with  the  memory  of  her  brihiant  beauty  and 
of  her  gracious  charms.  She  was  the  centre  and  idol  of 
that  circle. 

In  1855,  on  November  7th,  she  gave  her  hand 
and  heart  to  Dr.  Thomas  H.  Carter,  esq.,  of  Shirley, 
and  from  that  time  to  the  day  of  her  death  their  life  was 
one  of  the  ideal  unions  which  justify  the  saying  that 
''marriages  are  made  in  heaven."  "It  has  always  been 
a  honeymoon  with  us,"  he  used  to  say.  The  young 
couple  almost  immediately  settled  at  "Pampatike,"  on  the 
Pamunkey,  an  old  colonial  estate.  Here  Mrs.  Carter 
lived  for  thirty-four  years,  occupied  in  the  duties  of  mis- 
tress of  a  great  plantation,  dispensing  that  gracious  hos- 
pitality which  made  it  noted  even  in  Old  Virginia ;  shed- 
ding the  light  of  a  beautiful  life  on  all  about  her,  and  ex- 
emplifying in  herself  the  character  to  which  the  South 
points  with  pride  and  affection  as  a  refutation  of  every 
adverse  criticism. 

Such  a  plantation  was  a  world  in  itself,  and  the  liff 
upon  it  was  such  as  to  entail  on  the  master  and  mistress 
labors  and  responsibilities  such  as  are  not  often  produced 
under  any  other  conditions.  In  addition  to  the  demands 
of  hospitality,  which  were  exacting  and  constant,  the 
conduct  of  such  a  large  establishment,  with  the  care  of 
over  one  hundred  and  fifty  servants,  whose  eyes  were 
ever  turned  to  their  mistress,  called  forth  the  exercise  of 
the  highest  powers  from  those  who  felt  themselves 
answerable  to  the  Great  Master  of  All  for  the  full  per- 
formance of  their  duty.  No  one  ever  performed  this 
duty  with  more  divine  devotion  than  did  this  young  mis- 
tress. She  was  at  once  the  friend  and  the  servant  of 
every  soul  on  the  place.  Mrs.  Carter  was  a  fine  illustra- 
tion of  the  rare  quality  of  the  character  formed  by  such 
conditions.  In  sickness  and  in  health  she  watched  over, 
looked  after,  and  cared  for  all  within  her  province. 

It  is  the  boast  of  the  South,  and  one  founded  on  truth, 
that  when  during  the  war  the  men  were  withdrawn  from 
the  plantations  to  do  their  duty  on  the  field,  the  women 
rose  to  the  full  measure  of  every  demand,  filling  often, 
under  new  conditions  that  would  have  tried  the  utmost 


i88  WOMEN  01^  The  confederacy 

powers  of  the  men  themselves,  a  place  to  which  only  men 
had  been  supposed  equal. 

When,  on  the  outbreak  of  war,  her  husband  was 
among  the  first  who  took  the  field  as  a  captain  of  artil- 
lery, Mrs.  Carter  took  charge  of  the  plantation  and 
during  all  the  stress  of  that  trying  period  she  conducted 
it  with  an  ability  that  would  have  done  honor  to  a  man 
of  the  greatest  experience.  The  Pampatike  plantation, 
lying  not  far  from  West  Point,  the  scene  of  so  many 
operations  during  the  war,  was  within  the  "debatable 
land"  that  lay  between  the  lines  and  was  alternately  swept 
by  both  armies.  The  position  was  peculiarly  delicate, 
and  often  called  for  the  exercise  of  rare  tact  and  courage 
on  the  part  of  the  mistress.  It  was  known  to  the  enemy 
that  her  husband  was  a  gallant  and  rising  officer  and  a 
near  relative  of  General  Lee,  and  the  plantation  was  a 
marked  one. 

On  one  occasion  a  small  party  of  mounted  Federal 
troops  on  a  foraging  expedition  visited  the  place  and 
were  engaged  in  looting,  when  a  party  of  Confederate 
cavalry  suddenly  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  a  brisk  little 
skirmish  took  place  in  the  garden  and  yard.  The  Fed- 
erals were  caught  by  surprise,  and  getting  the  worst  of 
it,  broke  and  retreated  across  the  lawn,  with  the  enemy 
close  to  their  heels  in  hot  chase.  A  Union  trooper  was 
shot  from  his  horse  and  fell  just  in  front  of  the  house, 
but  rising,  tried  to  run  on.  Mrs.  Carter,  seeing  his 
danger,  rushed  out^  calling  to  him  to  come  to  her  and 
she  would  protect  him.  Turning,  he  staggered  to  her, 
but  though  she  sheltered  him,  his  wound  was  mortal,  and 
he  died  at  her  feet.  The  surprise  and  defeat  of  this  party 
having  been  reported  at  West  Point,  a  stronger  force  was 
sent  up  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  place.  But  on  learn- 
ing of  Mrs.  Carter's  act  in  rushing  out  amid  the  flying 
bullets  to  save  this  man  at  the  risk  of  her  life,  the  officer 
in  command  posted  a  guard,  and  orders  were  given  that 
the  place  should  be  henceforth  respected. 

The  hospital  service  on  the  Confederate  side  during  the 


WOMKN  OE"  THE  CONIfKDKRACY  1 89 

war,  as  wretched  as  it  was,  without  medicines  or  surgical 
appHances,  would  have  been  far  more  dreadful  but  for  the 
devotion  with  which  the  Southern  women  consecrated 
themselves  to  it.  Every  woman  was  a  nurse  if  she  were 
within  reach  of  wounds  and  sickness.  Every  house  was 
a  hospital  if  it  was  needed ;  and  to  their  honor  be  it  said 
that  the  principle  enunciated  by  Dr.  Dunant,  and  finally 
established  in  the  creation  of  the  Red  Cross  Society, 
found  its  exemplification  here  some  time  before  the 
Geneva  Congress.  To  them  a  wounded  man  of  whatever 
side  was  sacred,  and  to  his  service  they  consecrated  them- 
selves. Unhappily,  devotion,  even  as  divine  as  theirs, 
could  not  make  up  for  all. 

At  the  battle  of  Seven  Pines — "Fair  Oaks" — Captain 
Carter's  battery  rendered  such  efficient  service  that  the 
commanding  general  declared  he  would  rather  have  com- 
manded that  battery  that  day  than  to  have  been  President 
of  the  Confederate  States.  But  the  fame  of  the  battery 
was  won  at  the  expense  of  about  sixty  per  cent  of  its 
officers  and  men  killed  and  wounded.  The  Carter  plan- 
tation was  within  sound  of  the  guns,  and  Mrs.  Carter 
immediately  constituted  herself  the  nurse  of  the  wounded 
men  of  her  husband's  battery.  And  from  this  time  she 
was  regarded  by  them  as  their  guardian  angel — an  af- 
fection that  was  extended  to  her  by  all  of  the  men  of  her 
husband's  command,  as  he  rose  from  rank  to  rank,  until 
he  became  a  colonel  and  acting  chief  of  artillery  in  the 
last  Valley  campaign. 

When  the  war  closed  nothing  remained  except  the 
lands  and  a  few  buildings,  but  the  energy  of  the  master 
and  mistress  began  from  the  first  to  build  up  the  planta- 
tion again.  The  servants  were  free;  the  working  force 
was  broken  up  and  scattered,  yet  large  numbers  of  them, 
including  all  who  were  old  and  infirm,  remained  on  the 
place  and  had  to  be  cared  for  and  fed.  To  this  master 
and  mistress  alike  applied  all  their  abilities,  with  the  re- 
sult that  defeat  was  turned  into  success  and  the  place 
became  known  as  one  of  the  estates  that  had  survived  the 
destruction  of  war. 


190  WOMEN  OF  The  confederacy 

Having  a  family  of  young  children,  the  best  tutors 
were  secured,  and  owing  largely  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
good  influence  to  which  the  boys  would  be  subjected  un- 
der Mrs.  Carter's  roof,  many  applied  to  send  their  boys 
to  them,  and  "Pampatike  School"  soon  became  known 
far  beyond  the  limits  of  Virginia.  Among  those  who 
have  testified  to  the  influence  upon  them  of  their  life  at 
Pampatike  are  men  now  nearing  the  top  of  every  pro- 
fession in  many  States. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  the  writer  came  to  know  her. 
And  he  can  never  forget  the  impression  made  on  him  by 
her — an  impression  that  time  and  fuller  knowledge  of  her 
only  served  to  deepen.  Of  commanding  and  gracious 
presence,  with  a  face  of  rare  beauty  and  loveliness,  and 
manners,  whose  charm  can  never  be  described,  she 
might  have  been  noble  Brunhilda,  softened  and  made 
sweet  by  the  chastening  influence  of  Christianity  and  un- 
selfish love.  No  one  that  ever  saw  her  could  forget  her. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  beautifying  influences  of  a  simple 
piety  and  devoted  love  that  guided  her  life,  which 
stamped  their  impress  on  that  noble  face.  In  every  re- 
lation of  life  she  was  perfect.  And  the  influence  of  such 
a  life  can  never  cease.  Many  besides  her  children  rise 
up  and  call  her  blessed. 

In  closing  this  incomplete  sketch  of  one  whose  life 
illustrated  all  that  was  best  in  life,  and  admits  of  justice 
in  no  sketch  whatsoever,  the  writer  feels  that  he  cannot 
do  better  than  to  use  the  words  of  him  who  knew  and 
loved  her  best : 

Every  day  an  anthem  of  love  and  praise  swells  up  from  all  over 
the  land  to  do  her  honor.  Old  boys  of  Pampatike  schooling,  new 
boys  of  the  University,  girls  and  old  people,  recall  her  delight  to 
make  them  happy  and  to  give  them  pleasure.  It  was  her  greatest 
happiness  to  make  others  happy;  for  she  was  absolutely  the  most 
unselfish  and  generous  being  on  earth.  Her  generosity  was  not 
always  of  abundance,  for  abundance  was  not  always  hers;  but  a 
generosity   out   of  everything  that   she   had. 

Her  beautiful  life  has  passed  away,  and  is  now  only  a  memory, 
but  a  memory  fraught  and  fragrant  with  all  that  is  sweetest  and 
loveliest  and  purest  and  best  in  noblest  womanhood.  Who  that  ever 
saw  her  can  forget  her  noble  and  beautiful  face,  resplendent  with 
all  that  was  exalted  and  high-souled,  gracious,  and  kindest  to 
others — the  Master's  index  to  the  heart  within! 


WOMDN  OP  THE  CONFEDERACY  I9I 

J.   L.    M.    curry's  women   CONSTITUENTS 
[J.  L.  Underwood.] 

Hon.  J.  L.  M.  Curry  had  ever  since  the  war  with 
Mexico  been  the  idol  of  his  district  in  Alabama,  which 
kept  him  steadily  in  the  United  States  Congress  and  sent 
him  to  the  Confederate  House  of  Representatives. 
Toward  the  latter  part  of  the  war  in  the  Congressional 
campaign  Mr.  Curry  found  an  opponent  in  Mayor 
Cruickshank,  of  Talladega.  The  latter  skilfully  played 
upon  the  hardships  and  hopelessness  of  the  war  and  in 
some  of  the  upper  mountain  counties  considerable  oppo- 
sition to  Mr.  Curry  was  developed.  At  a  gathering  of 
the  mountaineers,  largely  composed  of  women,  Mr. 
Curry  was  appealing  with  his  usual  favor  to  his  people 
to  continue  their  efforts  to  secure  the  independence  of 
the  Confederacy  and  not  to  listen  to  any  suggestion  of 
submission  to  the  Northern  States.  About  the  time  his 
eloquence  reached  its  highest  point,  up  rose  an  old  womaft 
and  hurled  at  him  what  struck  him  like  a  thunder-bolt : 

"I  think  it  time  for  you  to  hush  all  your  war  talk. 
You  go  yonder  to  Richmond  and  sit  up  there  in  Congress 
and  have  a  good  time  while  our  poor  boys  are  being  all 
killed ;  and  if  you  are  going  to  do  anything  it's  time  for 
you  to  stop  this  war." 

In  a  moment  up  sprang  another  mountain  woman. 
"Go  on,  Mr.  Curry,"  said  she.  "Go  on,  3^ou  are  right. 
We  can  never  consent  to  give  up  our  Southern  cause. 
Don't  listen  to  what  this  other  woman  says.  I  have 
sent  five  sons  to  the  army.  Three  of  them  have  fallen  on 
the  battlefield.  The  other  two  are  at  their  post  in  the 
Virginia  army  and  they  will  all  stand  by  Lee  to  the  last. 
This  woman  here  hasn't  but  two  sons  and  they  had  to 
be  conscripted.  One  of  them  has  deserted  and  it  takes 
all  of  Lewis's  Cavalry  to  keep  the  other  one  in  ranks. 
Go  on,  Mr.  Curry.  We  are  with  you."  And  Curry 
went  on,  more  edified  by  this  last  woman's  speech,  said  he 
afterward;  than  any  speech  he  ever  heard  in  his  life. 


192  womkn  01''  thk  coni''Ede;racy 

nora  mccarthy 

[In  The  Gray  Jacket,  pages  26-29.] 

Norah  McCarthy  won  by  her  courage  the  name  of  the 
"Jennie  Deans"  of  the  West.  She  lived  in  the  interior 
of  Missouri — a  little,  pretty,  black-eyed  girl,  with  a  soul 
as  huge  as  a  mountain,  and  a  form  as  frail  as  a  fairy's, 
and  the  courage  and  pluck  of  a  buccaneer  into  the  bar- 
gain. Her  father  was  an  old  man — a  secessionist.  She 
had  but  a  single  brother,  just  growing  from  boyhood  to 
youthhood,  but  sickly  and  lame.  The  family  had  lived 
in  Kansas  during  the  troubles  of  '57,  when  Norah  was  a 
mere  girl  of  fourteen  or  thereabouts.  But  even  then  her 
beauty,  wit  and  devil-may-care  spirit  were  known  far 
and  wide;  and  many  were  the  stories  told  along  the 
border  of  her  sayings  and  doings.  Among  other  charges 
laid  at  her  door  it  is  said  that  she  broke  all  the  hearts  of 
the  young  bloods  far  and  wide,  and  tradition  goes  even 
so  far  as  to  assert  that,  like  Bob  Acres,  she  killed  a  man 
once  a  week,  keeping  a  private  church-yard  for  the  pur- 
pose of  decently  burying  her  dead.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
she  was  then,  and  is  now,  a  dashing,  fine-looking,  lively 
girl,  and  a  prettier  heroine  than  will  be  found  in  a  novel, 
as  will  be  seen  if  the  good-natured  reader  has  a  mind  to 
follow  us  to  the  close  of  this  sketch. 

Not  long  after  the  Federals  came  into  her  neighbor- 
hood, and  after  they  had  forced  her  father  to  take  the 
oath,  which  he  did  partly  because  he  was  a  very  old  man, 
unable  to  take  the  field,  and  hoped  thereby  to  save  the 
security  of  his  household,  and  partly  because  he  could 
not  help  himself;  not  long  after  these  two  important 
events  in  the  history  of  our  heroine,  a  body  of  men 
marched  up  one  evening,  while  she  was  on  a  visit  to  a 
neighbor's,  and  arrested  her  sickly,  weak  brother,  bearing 
him  ofif  to  Leavenworth  City,  where  he  was  lodged  in  the 
military  guard-house. 

It  was  nearly  night  before  Norah  reached  home.  When 
she  did  so,  and  discovered  the  outrage  which  had  been 
perpetrated,  and  the  grief  of  her  old  father,  her  rage 
knew  no  bounds.     Although  the  mists  were  falling  and 


WOMDN  0^  The  CONf^EDERACY  1 93 

the  night  was  closing  in,  dark  and  dreary,  she  ordered 
her  horse  to  be  resaddled,  put  on  a  thick  surtout,  belted  a 
sash  round  her  waist,  and  sticking  a  pair  of  ivory-handled 
pistols  in  her  bosom,  started  off  after  the  soldiers.  The 
post  was  many  miles  distant.  But  that  she  did  not  re- 
gard. Over  hill,  through  marsh,  under  cover  of  the 
darkness,  she  galloped  on  to  the  headquarters  of  the 
enemy.  At  last  the  call  of  a  sentry  brought  her  to  stand, 
with  a  hoarse  "Who  goes  there  ?" 

"No  matter,"  she  replied.  "I  wish  to  see  Colonel 
Prince,  your  commanding  officer,  and  instantly,  too." 

Somewhat  awed  by  the  presence  of  a  young  female  on 
horseback  at  that  late  hour,  and  perhaps  struck  by  her 
imperious  tone  of  command,  the  Yankee  guard,  without 
hesitation,  conducted  her  to  the  fortifications,  and  thence 
to  the  quarters  of  the  colonel  commanding,  with  whom 
she  was  left  alone. 

"Well,  madam,"  said  the  Federal  officer,  with  bland 
politeness,  "to  what  do  I  owe  the  honor  of  this  visit?" 

"Is  this  Colonel  Prince?"  replied  the  brave  girl, 
quietly. 

"It  is,  and  you  are — 

"No  matter.  I  have  come  here  to  inquire  whether 
you  have  a  lad  by  the  name  of  McCarthy  a  prisoner?" 

"There  is  such  a  prisoner." 

"May  I  ask  why  he  is  a  prisoner  ?" 

"Certainly!  For  being  suspected  of  treasonable  con- 
nection with  the  enemy." 

"Treasonable  connection  with  the  enemy!  Why  the 
boy  is  sick  and  lame.  He  is,  besides,  my  brother;  and 
I  have  come  to  ask  his  immediate  release." 

The  officer  opened  his  eyes;  was  sorry  he  could  not 
comply  with  the  request  of  so  winning  a  supplicant;  and 
must  "really  beg  her  to  desist  and  leave  the  fortress." 

"I  demand  his  release,"  cried  she,  in  reply. 

"That  you  cannot  have.  The  boy  is  a  rebel  and  a 
traitor,  and  unless  you  retire,  madam,  I  shall  be  forced 
to  arrest  you  on  a  similar  suspicion." 

"Suspicion!  I  am  a  rebel  and  a  traitor,  too,  if  you 
13 


194  woMiSN  oif  the:  coni^ijdbracy 

wish;  young  McCarthy  is  my  brother,  and  I  don't  leave 
this  tent  until  he  goes  with  me.  Order  his  instant  re- 
lease or," — here  she  drew  one  of  the  aforesaid  ivory 
handles  out  of  her  bosom  and  levelled  the  muzzle  of  it 
directly  at  him — "I  will  put  an  ounce  of  lead  in  your 
brain  before  you  can  call  a  single  sentry  to  your  relief." 

A  picture  that ! 

There  stood  the  heroic  girl;  eyes  flashing  fire,  cheek 
glowing  with  earnest  will,  lips  firmly  set  with  resolution, 
and  hand  outstretched  with  a  loaded  pistol  ready  to  send 
the  contents  through  the  now  thoroughly  frightened, 
startled,  aghast  soldier,  who  cowered,  like  blank  paper 
before  flames,  under  her  burning  stare. 

"Quick !"  she  repeated,  "order  his  release,  or  you  die." 

It  was  too  much.  Prince  could  not  stand  it.  He  bade 
her  lower  her  infernal  weapon,  for  God's  sake,  and  the 
boy  should  be  forthwith  liberated. 

"Give  the  order  first,"  she  replied,  unmoved. 

And  the  order  was  given;  the  lad  was  brought  out; 
and  drawing  his  arm  in  hers,  the  gallant  sister  marched 
out  of  the  place,  with  one  hand  grasping  one  of  his,  and 
the  other  holding  her  trusty  ivory  handle.  She  mounted 
her  horse,  bade  him  get  up  behind,  and  rode  off,  reach- 
ing home  without  accident  before  midnight. 

Now  that  is  a  fact  stranger  than  fiction,  which  shows 
what  sort  of  metal  is  in  our  women  of  the  much  abused 
and  traduced  nineteenth  century. 


womKn  in  The  battle  oe  gainesvieeE;,  eea. 

[From   Dickinson  and   His   Men,  pages  99-100.] 

As  Captain  Dickinson  and  our  brave  defenders 
charged  the  enemy  through  the  streets,  many  of  the 
ladies  could  be  seen,  whose  inspiring  tones  and  grateful 
plaudits  cheered  these  noble  heroes  on  to  deeds  of  greater 
daring.  While  charging  the  enemy,  near  the  residence 
of  Judge  Dawkins,  Mrs.  Dawkins  and  her  lovely  sister. 
Miss  Lydia  Taylor,  passed  from  their  garden  into  the 


WOMEN  OF*  the;  cone^ederacy  195 

street,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  actuated  by 
the  heroic  spirit  that  ever  animated  our  noble  women, 
united  their  voices  in  repeating  the  captain's  word  of 
command.  "Charge,  charge!"  was  heard  with  the 
musical  rhythm  of  a  benediction  from  their  grateful 
hearts. 

The  enemy,  halting,  made  a  stand  a  few  yards  below  the 
entrance  to  their  residence,  firing  up  the  street  almost 
a  hailstorm  of  Minie  balls  from  their  Spencer  rifles.  Ap- 
parently indifferent  to  their  danger,  these  heroic  ladies 
stood  unmoved,  cheering  on  our  gallant  soldiers,  among 
whom  were  many  near  and  dear  to  them.  Captain  Dick- 
inson earnestly  entreated  them  to  return  to  the  house,  as 
they  were  in  imminent  danger  of  being  killed. 

Many  ladies  brought  buckets  of  water  for  the  heated, 
famished  soldiers  who  had  no  time  to  give  even  to  this 
needed  refreshment.  Through  all  the  desperate  fight 
not  a  citizen  was  hurt.  The  sweet  incense  of  prayer 
arose  from  hundreds  of  agonized  hearts  to  the  mercy-seat, 
in  behalf  of  husbands,  sons,  fathers,  and  brothers  who 
were  in  the  battle. 


"'she  WOUIvD  send  ten  MORE'''' 
[Judge  John  H.  Reagan's  address  in  1897.] 

To  illustrate  the  character  and  devotion  of  the  women 
of  the  Confederacy,  I  will  repeat  a  statement  made  to  me 
during  the  war  by  Governor  Letcher,  of  Virginia.  He 
had  visited  his  home  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  and  on 
his  return  to  the  State  capitol  called  at  the  house  of  an 
old  friend  who  had  a  large  family.  He  found  no  one 
but  the  good  old  mother  at  home,  and  inquired  about  the 
balance  of  the  family.  She  told  him  that  her  husband, 
her  husband's  father  and  her  ten  sons  were  all  in  the 
army.  And  on  his  suggestion  that  she  must  feel  lone- 
some, having  had  a  large  family  with  her  and  now  to  be 
left  alone,  her  answer  was  that  it  was  very  hard,  but  if 
she  had  ten  more  sons  they  should  all  go  to  the  army. 
Can  ancient  or  modern  history  show  a  nobler  or  more 
unselfish  and  patriotic  devotion  to  any  cause  ? 


196  WOM^N  01^  TH^  CONlfllDKRACY 

wome;n  at  vicksburg 

[J.  I/.  Underwood.] 

On  first  thought  it  would  be  expected  that  women 
would  be  greatly  excited  when  under  fire  and  amid  other 
scenes  of  actual  war.  But  almost  invariably  they  ex- 
hibited during  our  war  a  calm  fearlessness  that  was 
amazing.  My  girl  wife  and  her  war  companion,  Mrs. 
Lieutenant  Lockett,  of  Marion,  Ala.,  a  daughter  of  Ala- 
bama's noble  war  governor,  A.  B.  Moore,  spent  several 
months  of  the  spring  of  1863  at  Vicksburg  and  its  vi- 
cinity, to  be  near  their  husbands.  They  were  boarding 
in  the  city  the  night  when  Porter's  fleet  ran  down  the 
river  by  the  batteries.  The  cannonading  was  terrific.  I 
was  with  my  regiment,  the  Thirtieth  Alabama,  some  few 
miles  away.  Next  morning,  as  soon  as  regimental  du- 
ties would  allow,  I  hastened  to  the  city.  To  my  aston- 
ishment I  found  that  neither  "the  girls"  nor  the  ladies  of 
the  city  had  been  at  all  alarmed.  They  seemed  to  look 
upon  it  as  a  sort  of  enjoyable  episode. 

In  May  we  were  at  Warrenton,  10  miles  below  the 
city,  where  the  two  ladies  were  quartered  with  old  Mr. 
Withington  and  his  good  wife,  in  one  of  the  most  inde- 
pendent and  comfortable  plantation  homes  in  the  land. 
When  our  brigade,  under  command  of  the  brave  but  ill- 
fated  Gen.  Ed.  Tracy,  was  ordered  to  Grand  Gulf,  I 
was  left  under  orders  to  take  the  ladies  to  Vicksburg  and 
send  them  home  out  of  danger.  But  before  we  could 
get  away  from  Mr.  Withington's  news  came  that  a  bat- 
tle was  raging  at  Bayou  Pierre.  I  told  the  ladies  that  I 
could  not  stay  away  from  my  command  while  it  was  en- 
gaged in  battle  and  that  they  would  just  have  to  do  the 
best  they  could  where  they  were.  Their  cheeks  never 
blanched ;  nor  was  a  protest  uttered.  After  the  battle  I 
hurried  back  and  got  them  to  Vicksburg,  hoping  to  have 
them  beyond  Jackson  before  Grant's  flanking  army  could 
reach  it.  The  idea  of  having  them  shut  up  in  Vicksburg 
during  a  siege  was  a  horror  to  me.  What  was  my  cha- 
grin when,  on  reaching  the  railroad  station,  I  was  in- 


W0ME:N  Olf  THE  CONFEDERACY  197 

formed  by  the  officials  that  not  another  train  would  be 
allowed  to  go  out.  There  were  numbers  of  officers' 
wives  and  other  women  all  round  the  depot,  eager  to  go. 
They  bore  their  bitter  disappointment  even  cheerfully. 
Their  courage  and  cheerfulness  soon  took  another  happy 
turn  when  under  orders  I  passed  around  to  whisper  to 
them,  "Be  ready  to  jump  quickly  and  quietly  on  a  train 
which  has  been  provided  to  carry  off  soldiers'  wives  in  a 
few  minutes." 

Away  they  went  and  reached  their  homes  safely, 
though  we  at  Vicksburg  never  learned  this  until  after  the 
surrender.  The  siege  lasted  forty-seven  days.  Day  and 
night,  not  only  the  entrenchments  but  the  entire  city  was 
exposed  to  artillery  and  rifle  fire  day  and  night.  Many 
a  man  was  killed  far  away  from  the  front  lines.  Many 
a  private  house  was  torn  by  shells  from  Grant's  rifle 
cannon  or  Porter's  mortar  fleet.  While  the  shot  and 
shell  did  not  fall  incessantly  at  any  one  point  there  was 
no  place  they  did  not  reach.  I  knew  several  poor  fellows 
to  receive  fresh  wounds  while  lying  on  their  cots  in  the 
hospitals. 

Porter  did  not  spare  the  city  hospital,  although  car- 
rying the  yellow  flag.  In  it  I  had  an  old  college  friend, 
Capt.  Ben  Craig,  of  Alabama,  sick  with  fever,  whose  wife 
and  venerable  father  had  remained  to  nurse  him.  Just 
before  one  of  my  visits  a  thirteen-inch  shell  came  down 
through  the  roof,  leaving  an  ugly  hole  in  the  floor  within 
six  inches  of  poor  Craig's  bed.  His  brave  little  wife, 
(formerly  Miss  Eliza  Tucker,  of  Milledgeville,  Ga.) 
never  flinched. 

A  great  many  families  of  the  city  had  dug  caves  in 
the  soft  clay  of  the  Vicksburg  hills  and  could  hide  in 
them  in  perfect  safety.  Many  did  not  avail  themselves 
of  this  refuge,  but  bravely  remained  in  their  houses  and 
took  chances.  Even  the  cave  dwellers  had  to  come  out 
to  cook  their  food.  Nobly  did  these  good  women  render 
whatever  attention  they  could  to  our  sick  and  wounded. 
They  were  as  brave  and  as  calm  as  the  soldiers. 


198  wome:n  01^  The:  con]?ede;racy 

''''M0THE;r^  TTi.hL,  HIM  NOT  TO  COM^'^ 
[Major  Robert  Stiles,  in  Four  Years  Under  Marse  Robert,  pages  322-326.] 

I  sat  in  the  porch,  where  were  also  sitting  an  old 
couple,  evidently  the  joint  head  of  the  establishment,  and 
a  young  woman  dressed  in  black,  apparently  their  daugh- 
ter, and,  as  I  soon  learned,  a  soldier's  widow.  My  coat 
was  badly  torn,  and  the  young  woman  kindly  offering  to 
mend  it  I  thanked  her  and,  taking  it  off,  handed  it  to  her. 
While  we  were  chatting,  and  groups  of  men  sitting  on 
the  steps  and  lying  about  the  yard,  the  door  of  the  house 
opened  and  another  young  woman  appeared.  She  was 
almost  beautiful,  was  plainly  but  neatly  dressed,  and  had 
her  hat  on.  She  had  evidently  been  weeping  and  her 
face  was  deadly  pale.  Turning  to  the  old  woman,  as  she 
came  out,  she  said,  cutting  her  words  off  short, 
"Mother,  tell  him  if  he  passes  here  he  is  no  husband  of 
mine,"  and  turned  again  to  leave  the  porch.  I  rose,  and 
placing  myself  directly  in  front  of  her,  extended  my  arm 
to  prevent  her  escape.  She  drew  back  with  surprise  and 
indignation.  The  men  were  alert  on  the  instant,  and 
battle  was  joined. 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  she  cried. 

"I  mean,  madam,"  I  replied,  "that  you  are  "sending 
your  husband  word  to  desert,  and  that  I  cannot  permit 
you  to  do  this  in  the  presence  of  my  men." 

"Indeed!  and  who  asked  your  permission,  sir? 
And  pray,  sir,  is  he  your  husband  or  mine  ?" 

"He  is  your  husband,  madam,  but  these  are  my  sol- 
diers. They  and  I  belong  to  the  same  army  with  your 
husband,  and  I  cannot  suffer  you,  or  any  one,  unchal- 
lenged, to  send  such  a  demoralizing  message  in  their 
hearing." 

"Army !  do  you  call  this  mob  of  retreating  cowards  an 
army?  Soldiers!  if  you  are  soldiers,  why  don't  you 
stand  and  fight  the  savage  wolves  that  are  coming  upon 
us  defenceless  women  and  children?" 

"We  don't  stand  and  fight,  madam,  because  we  are 
soldiers,  and  have  to  obey  orders,  but  if  the  enemy  should 
appear  on  that  hill  this  moment  I  think  you  would  find 


WOMEN  01?  THE  CONEEDDRACY  I99 

that  these  men  are  soldiers,  and  willing  to  die  in  defense 
of  women  and  children." 

"Quite  a  fine  speech,  sir,  but  rather  cheap  to  utter, 
since  you  very  well  know  the  Yankees  are  not  here,  and 
won't  be,  till  you've  had  time  to  get  your  precious  car- 
casses out  of  the  way.  Besides,  sir,  this  thing  is  over, 
and  has  been  for  some  time.  The  government  has  now 
actually  run  of?,  bag  and  baggage, — the  Lord  knows 
where, — and  there  is  no  longer  any  government  or  any 
country  for  my  husband  to  owe  allegiance  to.  He  does 
owe  allegiance  to  me  and  to  his  starving  children,  and  if 
he  doesn't  observe  this  allegiance  now,  when  I  need  him, 
he  need  not  attempt  it  hereafter  when  he  wants  me." 

The  woman  was  quick  as  a  flash  and  cold  as  steel. 
She  was  getting  the  better  of  me.  She  saw  it,  and,  worst 
of  all,  the  men  saw  and  felt  it,  too,  and  had  gathered  thick 
and  pressed  up  close  all  round  the  porch.  There  must 
have  been  a  hundred  or  more  of  them,  all  eagerly  listen- 
ing, and  evidently  strongly  to  the  woman's  side.  This 
would  never  do.  I  tried  every  avenue  of  approach  to 
that  woman's  heart.  It  was  congealed  by  suffering,  or 
else  it  was  encased  in  adamant.  She  had  parried  every 
thrust,  repelled  every  advance,  and  was  now  standing  de- 
fiant, with  her  arms  folded  across  her  breast,  rather 
courting  further  attack.  I  was  desperate,  and  with  the 
nonchalance  of  pure  desperation — no  stroke  of  genius — 
I  asked  the  soldier-question  : 

"What  command  does  your  husband  belong  to  ?" 

She  started  a  little,  and  there  was  a  trace  of  color  in 
her  face  as  she  replied,  with  a  slight  tone  of  pride  in  her 
voice:    "He  belongs  to  the  Stonewall  Brigade,  sir." 

I  felt,  rather  than  thought  it — but,  had  I  really  found 
her  heart?     We  would  see. 

"Wlien  didhe  join  it?" 

A  little  deeper  flush,  a  little  stronger  emphasis  of 
pride. 

"He  joined  in  the  spring  of  '61,  sir." 

Yes,  I  was  sure  of  it  now.  Her  eyes  had  gazed 
straight  into  mine;  her  head  inclined  and  her  eyelids 
drooped  a  little  now,  and  there  was  something  in  her 


200  WOMIJN  01''  The:  CONI^E^DEiRACY 

face  that  was  not  pain  and  was  not  fight.     So  I  let  my- 
self out  a  little,  and  turning  to  the  men,  said : 

"Men,  if  her  husband  joined  the  Stonewall  Brigade  in 
'6 1,  and  has  been  in  the  army  ever  since,  I  reckon  he's  a 
good  soldier." 

I  turned  to  look  at  her.  It  was  all  over.  Her  wife- 
hood had  conquered.  She  had  not  been  addressed  this 
time,  yet  she  answered  instantly,  with  head  raised  high, 
face  blushing,  eyes  flashing :  "General  Lee  hasn't  a  bet- 
ter in  his  army!"  As  she  uttered  these  words  she  put 
her  hand  in  her  bosom,  and  drawing  out  a  folded  paper, 
extended  it  toward  me,  saying :  "If  you  doubt  it,  look  at 
that." 

Before  her  hand  reached  mine  she  drew  it  back,  seem- 
ing to  have  changed  her  mind,  but  I  caught  her  wrist, 
and  without  much  resistance  possessed  myself  of  the 
paper.  It  had  been  much  thumbed  and  was  much  worn. 
It  was  hardly  legible,  but  I  made  it  out.  Again  I  turned 
to  the  men. 

"Take  off  your  hats,  boys,  I  want  you  to  hear  this  with 
uncovered  heads" — and  then  I  read  an  endorsement  on 
an  application  for  furlough,  in  which  General  Lee  him- 
self had  signed  a  recommendation  of  this  woman's  hus- 
band for  a  furlough  of  special  length  on  account  of  ex- 
traordinary gallantry  in  battle. 

During  the  reading  of  this  paper  the  woman  was  trans- 
figured, glorified.  No  Madonna  of  old  master  was  ever 
more  sweetly  radiant  with  all  that  appeals  to  what  is 
best  and  holiest  in  man.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with 
deep,  quiet  sighs ;  her  eyes  rained  gentle,  happy  tears. 

The  men  felt  it  all — all.  They  were  all  gazing  upon 
her,  but  the  dross  was  clean,  purified  out  of  them.  There 
was  not,  upon  any  one  of  their  faces,  an  expression  that 
would  have  brought  a  blush  to  the  cheek  of  the  purest 
womanhood  on  earth.  I  turned  once  more  to  the  sol- 
dier's wife. 

"This  little  paper  is  your  most  precious  treasure,  isn't 
it?" 

"It  is." 

"And  the  love  of  him  whose  manly  courage  and  devo- 


WOM^N  OP  THE)  CONFEDERACY  20I 

tion  won  this  tribute  is  the  best  blessing  God  ever  gave 
you,  isn't  it?" 

"It  is." 

"And  yet,  for  the  brief  ecstasy  of  one  kiss,  you  would 
disgrace  this  hero-husband  of  yours,  stain  all  his  noble 
reputation,  and  turn  this  priceless  paper  to  bitterness; 
for  the  rear-guard  would  hunt  him  from  his  own  cottage, 
in  half  an  hour,  a  deserter  and  a  coward." 

Not  a  sound  could  be  heard  save  her  hurried  breathing. 
The  rest  of  us  held  our  breath.  Suddenly,  with  a  gasp 
of  recovered  consciousness,  she  snatched  the  paper  from 
my  hand,  put  it  back  hurriedly  in  her  bosom,  and  turn- 
ing once  more  to  her  mother,  said:  "Mother,  tell  him 
not  to  come." 

I  stepped  aside  at  once.  She  left  the  porch,  glided 
down  the  path  to  the  gate,  crossed  the  road,  surmounted 
the  fence  with  easy  grace,  climbed  the  hill,  and  as  she 
disappeared  in  the  weedy  pathway  I  caught  up  my  hat 
and  said : 

"Now,  men,  give  her  three  cheers." 

Such  cheers.  Oh,  God,  shall  I  ever  again  hear  a  cheer 
which  bears  a  man's  whole  soul  in  it  ?  For  the  first  time 
I  felt  reasonably  sure  of  my  battalion.  It  would  follow 
anywhere. 


BRAVE  WOMAN  IN  DECATUR,  GA. 
[Miss  Mary  A.  H.  Gay,  in  Ivife  in  Dixie,  pages  127-132.] 

Garrad's  Cavalry  selected  our  lot,  consisting  of  several 
acres,  for  headquarters,  and  soon  what  appeared  to  us  to 
be  an  immense  army  train  of  wagons  commenced  rolling 
into  it.  In  less  than  two  hours  our  barn  was  demolished 
and  converted  into  tents,  which  were  occupied  by  privates 
and  noncommissioned  officers,  and  to  the  balusters  of  our 
portico  and  other  portions  of  the  house  were  tied  a  num- 
ber of  large  ropes,  which,  the  other  ends  being  secured  to 
the  trees  and  shrubbery,  answered  as  a  railing  to  which  at 
short  intervals  apart  a  number  of  smaller  ropes  were  tied, 
and  to  these  were  attached  horses  and  mules,  which  were 


202  WOMDN  O^  THU  CONFE^DERACY 

eating  corn  and  oats  out  of  troughs  improvised  for  the 
occasion  out  of  bureau,  washstand,  and  wardrobe  draw- 
ers. Men  in  groups  were  playing  cards  on  tables  of 
every  size  and  shape,  and  whisky  and  profanity  held  high 
carnival.  Thus  surrounded,  we  could  but  be  apprehen- 
sive of  danger;  and,  to  assure  ourselves  of  as  much 
safety  as  possible,  we  barricaded  the  doors  and  windows, 
and  arranged  to  sit  up  all  night;  that  is,  my  mother  and 
myself. 

As  we  sat  on  a  lounge,  every  chair  having  been  taken 
to  the  camps,  we  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  entering 
the  piazza,  and  in  a  moment,  loud  rapping,  which  meant 
business.  Going  to  the  window  nearest  the  door,  I  re- 
moved the  fastenings,  raised  the  sash,  and  opened  the 
blinds.  Perceiving  by  the  light  of  a  brilliant  moon  that 
at  least  a  half  dozen  men  in  uniforms  were  on  the  piazza, 
I  asked:    "Who  is  there?" 

"Gentlemen,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"If  so,  you  will  not  persist  in  your  effort  to  come  into 
the  house.  There  is  only  a  widow  and  one  of  her  daugh- 
ters, and  two  faithful  servants  in  it,"  said  I. 

"We  have  orders  from  headquarters  to  interview  Miss 
Gay.     Is  she  the  daughter  of  whom  you  speak  ?" 

"She  is,  and  I  am  she." 

"Well,  Miss  Gay,  we  demand  seeing  you,  without  in- 
tervening barriers.  Our  orders  are  imperative,"  said  he 
who  seemed  to  be  the  spokesman  of  the  delegation. 

"Then  wait  a  moment,"  I  amiably  responded.  Going 
to  my  mother,  I  repeated  in  substance  the  above  colloquy, 
and  asked  her  if  she  would  go  with  me  out  of  one  of  the 
back  doors  and  around  the  house  into  the  front  yard. 
Although  greatly  agitated  and  trembling,  she  readily  as- 
sented, and  we  noiselessly  went  out.  In  a  few  moments 
we  announced  our  presence,  and  our  visitors  descended 
the  steps  and  joined  us.  And  these  men,  occupying  a 
belligerent  attitude  toward  ourselves  and  all  that  was 
dear  to  us,  stood  face  to  face  with  us  and  in  silence  we 
contemplated  each  other.  When  the  silence  was  broken, 
the  aforesaid  officer  introduced  himself  as  Major  Camp- 
bell, a  member  of  General  Schofield's  staff.     He  also  in- 


V'^M^N  OP  THi:  CONIfi;D:ERACY  203 

troduced  the  accompanying  officers  each  by  name  and 
title.     This  ceremony  over,  Major  Campbell  said : 

"Miss  Gay,  our  mission  is  a  painful  one,  and  yet  we 
will  carry  it  out  unless  you  satisfactorily  explain  acts  re- 
ported to  us." 

"What  is  the  nature  of  those  acts?" 

"We  have  been  told  that  it  is  your  proudest  boast  that 
you  are  a  rebel,  and  that  you  are  ever  on  duty  to  aid  and 
abet  in  every  possible  way  the  wouldbe  destroyers  of  the 
United  States  government.  If  this  be  so,  we  can  not  per- 
mit you  to  remain  within  our  lines.  Until  Atlanta  sur- 
renders, Decatur  will  be  our  headquarters,  and  every  con- 
sideration of  interest  to  our  cause  requires  that  no  one 
inimical  to  it  should  remain  within  our  boundaries  estab- 
lished by  conquest." 

In  reply  to  these  charges,  I  said : 

"Gentlemen,  I  have  not  been  misrepresented,  so  far  as 
the  charges  you  mentioned  are  concerned.  If  I  were  a 
man,  I  should  be  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  those  who  are 
fighting  for  rights  guaranteed  by  the  Constitution  of  the  * 
United  States.  The  Southern  people  have  never  broken 
that  compact,  nor  infringed  upon  it  in  any  way.  They 
have  never  organized  mobs  to  assassinate  any  portion  of 
people  sharing  the  privileges  granted  by  that  compact. 
They  have  constructed  no  underground  railroads  to  bring 
into  our  midst  incendiaries  and  destroyers  of  the  peace, 
and  to  carry  off  stolen  property.  They  have  never 
sought  to  array  the  subordinate  element  of  the  North  in 
deadly  hostility  to  the  controlling  element.  No  class  of 
the  women  of  the  South  have  ever  sought  positions  at 
the  North  which  secured  sntrance  into  good  households, 
and  then  betrayed  the  confidence  reposed  by  corrupting 
the  servants  and  alienating  the  relations  between  the 
master  and  the  servant.  No  class  of  women  in  the  South 
have  ever  mounted  the  rostrum  and  proclaimed  false- 
hoods against  the  women  of  the  North — falsehoods 
which  must  have  crimsoned  with  shame  the  very  cheeks 
of  Beelzebub.  No  class  of  the  men  of  the  South  have 
ever  tramped  over  the  North  with  humbugs,  extorting 
money  either  through  sympathy  or  credulity,  and  en- 


204  wome:n  oil*  the:  coni^i^deracy 

gaged  at  the  same  time  in  the  nefarious  work  of  exciting 
the  subordinate  class  to  insurrection,  arson,  rapine,  and 
murder.  If  the  South  is  in  rebehion,  a  well-organized 
mob  at  the  North  has  brought  it  about.  Long  years  of 
patient  endurance  accomplished  nothing.  The  party 
founded  on  falsehood  and  hate  strengthened  and  grew  to 
enormous  proportions.  And,  by  the  way,  mark  the 
cunning  of  that  party.  Finding  that  the  Abolition  party 
made  slow  progress  and  had  to  work  in  the  dark,  it 
changed  its  name  and  took  in  new  issues,  and  by  a  syste- 
matic course  of  lying  in  its  institutions  of  learning,  from 
the  lowly  school-house  to  Yale  College,  and  from  its  pul- 
pits and  rostrums,  it  inculcated  lessons  of  hate  toward  the 
Southern  people,  whom  it  would  hurl  into  the  crater  of 
Vesuvius  if  endowed  with  the  power.  What  was  left  us 
to  do  but  to  try  to  relieve  that  portion  of  the  country 
which  had  permitted  this  sentiment  of  hate  to  predomi- 
nate of  all  connection  with  us,  and  of  all  responsibility  for 
the  sins  of  which  it  proclaimed  us  guilty  ?  This  effort  the 
South  has  made,  and  I  have  aided  and  abetted  in  every 
possible  manner,  and  will  continue  to  do  so  as  long  as 
there  is  an  armed  man  in  the  Southern  ranks.  If  this  is 
sufficient  cause  to  expel  me  from  my  home,  I  await  your 
orders.     I  have  no  favors  to  ask." 

Imagine  my  astonishment,  admiration,  and  gratitude 
when  that  group  of  Federal  officers  with  unanimity  said : 

"I  glory  in  your  spunk,  and  am  proud  of  you  as  my 
countrywoman;  and  so  far  from  banishing  you  from 
your  home,  we  will  vote  for  your  retention  within  our 
lines." 


GIVING  WARNING  TO  MOSBY 
[From  original  manuscript,  now  in  the  Confederate  Museum.] 

My  d^ar  Frii;nd  ;  *  *  *  Soon  after  the  Yankees 
went  into  winter  quarters  in  Warrenton,  I  was  requested 
by  a  soldier  friend  to  avail  myself  of  every  opportunity 
to  obtain  and  transmit  information  that  might  be  of  ser- 
vice to  our  scouts  and  guerrillas,  and  this  of  course  I  was 


WOMEllSr  01^  THi:  CONI^EIDDRACY  20$ 

most  willing  to  do.     Our  house  was  at  that  time  within 
the  lines  in  the  day  time,  and  beyond  them  at  night.     I 
walked  up  to  Warrenton  one  bright  but  very  cold  morn- 
ing, (the  22d  of  December)  and  as  soon  as  I  arrived  was 
informed  by  a  lady  friend,  who  was  also  on  the  lookout, 
that  she  had  just  seen  a  negro,  who  looked  like  a  new- 
comer, escorted  by  several  officers  to  the  provost  mar- 
shal's office.     I  immediately  concluded  that  he  was  bearer 
of  some  tidings,  most  probably  from  "Mosby's  Confeder- 
acy," and  that  I  must  know  what  it  might  be,  but  how 
could   I  accomplish  it?     A  sentinel  was  placed  always 
before  the  office.     I  had  my  purse  with  me.     I  fell  into 
conversation  with  him.     I  offered  him  so  much  to  let  me 
pass  into  the  basement  of  the  house  on  pretense  of  wish- 
ing to  transact  some  business  with  the  negroes  who  oc- 
cupied it.     He  accepted  it,  and  I  went — not  into  the  room 
which  the  negroes  occupied,  but  into  the  one  adjoining 
it — a  place  very  damp  and  dark,  where  I  could  hear,  but 
not  be  seen,  and  suiting  my  purpose  admirably,   as   it 
was  immediately  under  the  office.     I  listened ;   heard  the 
negro  questioned  and  heard  him  answer  that  he  could 
and  would  guide  a  force  to  Mosby's  headquarters,  to  the 
houses  where  he  knew  many  of  his  men  boarded,  to  the 
place  where  the  command  had  stored  a  quantity  of  corn. 
About  the  corn  they  seemed  to  care  little,  but  oh !  to  catch 
Mosby, — they  waxed  warm  at  the  thought — they  talked 
long  and  loudly  (all  for  my  convenience,  no  doubt)  and 
the  result  of  the  consultation  was  a  plan  to  go  "riding  on 
a  raid"  with  the  "reliable  contraband"  acting  as  guide — ■ 
to  go  that  very  night  if  certain  reinforcements  arrived  in 
time,  or  should  they  fail  to  do  so,  the  next  night.     I  had 
heard  enough.     I  came  out  of  my  cell,  walked  through 
town  to  a  picket  post,  with  the  remaining  contents  of  my 
purse  bribed  the  faithful  soldier  of  the  Union  to  let  me 
pass,  then  walked  two  miles  to  a  neighbor's  where   I 
thought  I   could  get  a  horse,   which  was   most  gladly 
furnished    me    when    my    errand    was    made    known. 
By     this     time     it     was     late     in     the     afternoon;     it 
had     been     turning    colder     all     day,     and     was     now 
intensely     cold     with     a     blustering     wind,     the     sky 


206  W0MI:N  Olf  THi:  CONFEDERACY 

covered  with  moving  masses  of  black  clouds.  My 
friends  wrapped  me  up  as  best  they  could.  I  mounted 
and  rode  three  miles  to  a  neighbor's  house,  where  I  took 
a  little  boy  up  behind  me  for  escort.  My  object  now  was 
to  ride  in  what  seemed  the  right  direction  until  I  met 
some  Southern  soldier  to  whom  I  could  impart  the  in- 
formation I  gathered,  and  commission  him  to  convey  it 
to  those  whom  it  most  nearly  concerned.  I  rode  on  for 
miles — the  country  becoming  entirely  new  to  me — the 
cold  increasing — the  darkness  deepening — the  wind  ris- 
ing higher  and  higher.  Mosby's  men  were  always  hang- 
ing about  the  outposts  of  the  enemy.  Why  was  it  that  I 
could  not  meet  one  of  them?  Did  they  think  the  night 
too  terrible  to  be  out  ?  Oh !  how  I  ached  with  cold,  and 
when  I  thoughtlessly  said  as  much,  my  gallant  little 
escort,  who  was  not  less  so,  I  am  sure,  begged  that  he 
might  be  allowed  to  take  off  his  overcoat  and  put  it 
around  me.  Suddenly,  just  before  me,  I  saw  a  large 
fire — the  temptation  was  too  great — I  forgot  that  its 
light  might  reveal  me  to  those  whom  the  darkness  hid, 
drew  the  reins — old  Kitty  Grey  stood  still,  and  I  stretched 
out  my  hands  toward  the  genial  warmth.  I  then  dis- 
covered that  I  was  near  the  "View  Tree"  to  reach  which, 
though  only  four  miles  from  Warrenton,  I  had  traveled 
eight  or  ten.  The  fire,  thought  I  to  myself,  was  built  by 
some  Southern  scouts,  but  they  left  it  as  I  came  on  lest 
it  should  endanger  them.  The  thought  aroused  me.  I 
started  on,  but  had  scarcely  done  so  when  the  moon  came 
out,  and  almost  immediately  Walter  called  my  attention 
to  a  body  of  men  on  my  right,  in  the  form  of  a  V,  each 
with  his  carbine  levelled,  and  moving  slowly  toward  me ; 
I  expected  them  to  fire  any  moment,  but  I  neither  quick- 
ened nor  slackened  my  pace.  The  moon  went  under  a 
cloud  and  I  passed  into  the  sheltering  darkness,  wonder- 
ing much  why  they  did  not  fire.  My  curiosity  on  that 
point  was  afterwards  satisfied.  On  I  rode.  It  was  not 
long  before  I  saw  a  single  horseman  with  his  raised 
weapon  just  in  front  of  me. 

"Halt,"  he  said. 

Boldness  alone  I  believed  could  save  me.     The  cold 


WOMEN  0^  THE  CONFEDERACY  207 

wind  made  my  voice  hoarse;  stern  purpose  made  it 
strong.  I  tell  you  I  was  astonished  at  the  manliness  of 
its  tone,  as  lifting  my  arm  I  said/'Surrender  or  I'll  blow 
your  brains  out." 

I  only  knew  that  a  moment  afterwards  I  heard  his 
horse's  retreating  hoofs  clattering  on  the  stony  road. 
Now  surely,  thought  I,  I  am  safe;  surely  the  last  picket 
is  passed,  and  my  spirits  rose.  Soon  after  this,  deceived 
by  the  darkness  and  my  ignorance  of  the  mountain  ways, 
I  lost  my  direction  and  took  a  wrong  road ;  but  believing 
myself  right  and  at  last  out  of  danger,  I  moved  on  as  fast 
as  I  could  over  the  rough,  frozen  ground,  when  on  reach- 
ing the  top  of  the  hill,  what  was  my  amazement  and  hor- 
ror on  finding  that  instead  of  proceeding  I  was  retracing 
my  steps,  though  by  a  different  route.  I  saw  distinctly, 
perhaps  three  miles  off,  the  lights  of  the  town  of  War- 
renton.  And  this  was  all  that  I  had  accomplished  after 
riding  at  least  twelve  miles.  What  should  I  do?  Was 
I  to  fail  altogether  of  my  mission?  To  keep  going, 
toward  Warrenton  would  inevitably  lead  me  to  the 
Yankees.  If  I  turned  and  lost  my  way  entirely,  what 
would  become  of  me  on  such  a  night?  Just  then  there 
came  into  my  mind  those  sweet  quaint  lines  which  I  did 
not  know  that  I  could  repeat : 

"God  shall  charge  his  angel  legions 
Watch  and  ward  o'er  thee  to  keep, 
Tho'    thou    walk    thro'    hostile    regions, 
The'  in  desert  wilds  thou  sleep." 

They  were  to  me  then  an  inspiration — a  harbinger  of 
safety  and  success.  It  would  have  been  still  further  in- 
spiration, could  I  have  seen  how  just  at  the  time,  dear  old 

Mrs.  ,  who  had  helped  to  wrap  me  up  when  I 

started,  and  had  encouraged  me  by  her  sympathy  and  in- 
terest, was  watching  for  my  return,  keeping  up  a  big 
fire — warming  .some  of  her  own  clothes  for  me;  and 
when  at  last  she  laid  down,  it  was  with  her  lamp  still 
burning,  a  pillow  arranged  for  me  close  by  her  kind  heart, 
and  with  a  prayer  for  me  on  her  lips,  that  she  slept.  God 
bless  her ! 

Turning  my  back  to  the  lights  once  more,  I  rode  on. 


208  WOMEJN  O^  The:  CONI^DDl^RACY 

I  had  only  gone  a  few  hundred  yards  when  I  saw  just 
before  me  a  horse  and  his  dismounted  rider.  The  man 
stepped  out,  laid  his  hand  on  my  bridle  and  said:  "Stop, 
lady,  you  can  go  no  further ;  but  where  are  you  going?" 

I  answered  in  the  very  tone  of  candor :  "I  was  trying 
to  go  to  the  neighborhood  of  Salem  to  see  a  sick  friend. 
It  was  later  than  I  thought  when  I  set  off.  My  poor  old 
borrowed  horse  traveled  very  slowly ;  night  overtook 
me  suddenly  and  I  determined  to  make  my  way  back  to 
my  home  near  Warrenton,  but  have  lost  my  way." 

He  then  said :  "It  is  my  painful  duty  to  take  you  to  the 
reserves,  where  you  will  be  detained  all  night  and  taken 
to  headquarters  in  the  morning." 

I  replied :  "You  can  shoot  me  on  the  spot,  but  I  will  not 
spend  this  night  unprotected  among  your  soldiers.  I  can- 
not consent  that  you  should  perform  your  duty," 

"Nor  am  I  willing  to  perform  it !"  he  exclaimed. 

After  a  few  moments'  hesitation,  which  seemed  to  me 
a  century,  he  pointed  out  to  me  a  light  at  some  distance 
and  said,  "Go  to  that  house ;  no  one  will  be  so  cruel  as 
to  turn  you  away  on  such  a  night." 

I  turned  into  what  I  thought  the  right  path,  but  pre- 
sently he  called  out  to  me  in  a  tone  of  earnest  entreaty : 
"Not  that  way,  for  God's  sake;  that  leads  to  the  re- 
serves." 

He  then  came  to  me,  and  leading  my  horse  into  the 
right  path  said:  "Good-by,  I  shall  be  three  hours  on 
picket  to  think  of  a  freezing  lady." 

Keeping  the  light  in  my  eye,  I  soon  reached  the  house, 
which  was  not  far  off,  and  although  the  inmates  evidently 
looked  upon  me  with  suspicion,  they  agreed  to  let  me  stay 
all  night  and  let  me  feed  my  horse.  I  gave  them  an  as- 
sumed name,  asked  to  go  to  bed  immediately,  had  a  hot 
brick  put  to  my  feet  and  plenty  of  cover;  but  I  was  too 
thoroughly  cold  to  be  warmed  easily,  so  I  lay  and  shivered 
and  wept  the  live-long  night. 

Next  morning  six  Yankees,  just  off  post,  rode  up  to  the 
house.  At  first  I  feared  the  kind  picket  had  proved  as 
treacherous  as  the  rest,  had  informed  on  me,  and  that 
they  had  come  to  arrest  me.     I  hurried  down  to  meet 


WOMKN  OF*  THE  CONFEDERACY  2O9 

them  and  was  not  a  little  relieved  to  find  that  they  only 
wanted  to  buy  milk  and  eggs.  There  was  a  captain 
among  them. 

"We  had  an  alarm  last  night,"  said  he  to  me. 

"Ah!  how  was  it?" 

"Why,  the  rebels  wanted  to  attack  our  soldiers  and  they 
thought  to  fool  us  by  sending  one  man  on  ahead  as  if  he 
were  alone,  thinking  we  would  all  fire  on  him  and  not  be 
ready  for  the  rest  when  they  came  up;  but  we  were  too 
sharp  for  them,  did  not  fire  at  all  and  the  rascals  were 
afraid  to  try  it." 

Ah!  what  mistakes  we  sometimes  make!  I  learned 
from  them  by  a  little  judicious  questioning  that  no  raid- 
ing party  had  passed  up  during  the  night,  and  hoped  that 
I  might  still  be  in  time. 

After  they  left  I  found  that  the  mistress  of  the  house 
was  a  true  Southern  woman.  I  told  her  my  real  name 
and  my  errand ;  she  went  with  me  to  a  house  in  the  moun- 
tains, where  were  some  of  Mosby's  men.  We  also  met 
several  on  the  way.  I  entreated  them  to  give  due  notice 
and  then  joyfully  turned  my  face  homewards.  Gentle, 
faithful,  old  Kitty  Grey  stood  me  in  good  stead  upon 
more  than  one  occasion,  but  the  Yankees  have  since  stolen 
her,  too.  I  soon  returned  her  to  her  owners  and  had 
nothing  to  do  but  get  through  the  lines  to  our  house. 
This  I  accomplished  without  difficulty,  and  when  I  got  in 
sight  of  the  camp,  just  about  sundown,  I  saw  every  pre- 
paration making  for  a  raid — the  raid  which  was  to  catch 
Mosby  and  his  men.  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  learn  in 
a  few  days  that  it  met  with  very  poor  success.  Not  a 
few  soldiers  have  since  told  me  that  the  warning  saved 
them  from  capture.  Several  were  in  bed  when  they  re- 
ceived it.  One  had  not  left  his  boarding-house  twenty 
minutes  when  it  was  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  They 
preferred  one  night  in  the  mountains  of  Virginia  to  a 
winter  in  a  Yankee  dungeon.  Am  I  not  more  than  re- 
paid by  their  thanks? 

A  few  days  after  this,  during  Christmas,  some  friends 
in  the  neighborhood  came  through  the  lines  to  spend  the 
14 


2IO  WOMIJN  01^  THE  CONI^EDERACY 

day  and  night  with  us.  To  show  you  how  difficult  it  was 
to  overcome  a  Yankee  sentinel's  stern  sense  of  duty,  I 
must  tell  you  that  one  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  party 
bribed  the  incumbent  of  the  post  on  this  occasion  to  let 
them  all  pass  for  the  small  consideration  of  two  ginger- 
cakes  and  one  turn-over  pie. 

Between  ii  and  12  that  night,  as  we  girls  were  un- 
dressing and  chatting  around  the  fire,  we  heard  a  gentle 
tapping  on  the  window  below,  and  immediately  mother 
came  up  and  whispering  as  softly  and  mysteriously  as  if 
she  feared  the  walls,  which  they  so  closely  watched,  or 
the  winds,  that  whistled  so  keenly  around  the  corners  of 
the  house,  and  also  their  ears  might  repeat  her  words  to 
the  pickets,  informed  me  that  Colonel  Mosby  and  a  few 
of  his  men  were  in  the  yard  and  wished  to  see  me.  I  put 
on  the  first  dress  I  came  to  and  crept  down  noiselessly. 
lest  I  should  arouse  our  spy  of  a  guard.  The  colonel 
wanted  to  know  the  exact  position  of  the  pickets  and 
videttes.  I  told  him  as  well  as  I  could,  and  in  order  to 
give  him  a  more  correct  idea,  I  offered  to  go  with  any  of 
them  whom  he  might  select  to  a  certain  hill,  where  I  could 
point  out  their  positions  more  definitely.  Capt.  Wm.  R. 
Smith  begged  leave  to  go  with  me.  He  led  his  horse  and 
we  walked  along,  talking  in  a  low  tone.  There  was  a 
full  moon,  but  she  wore  a  veil  of  fleecy  clouds. 

When  we  had  gone  about  two  hundred  yards,  very  un- 
expectedly there  rode  out  from  behind  a  tree  a  Yankee 
picket. 

''Halt,"  he  cried. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  an  instant  for  Captain  Smith  to 
spring  on  his  horse,  and  with  an  effort  of  his  strong  arm, 
"Light  to  the  croup  the  fair  lady  he  swung."  The  next 
instant  a  bullet  seemed  to  graze  our  ears ;  in  quick  suc- 
cession six  bullets  came,  but  they  soon  fell  far  behind  us. 
We  heard  the  whole  line  take  up  the  alarm.  As  we  flew 
along.  Captain  Smith  said,  very  calmly,  "A  little  romance 
for  you."  We  soon  reached  our  reserve  and  after  some 
further  conversation,  bade  one  another  goodnight — they 
going  forth  to  meet  other  adventures  and  I  to  my  friends, 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  211 

who  having  heard  the  firing,  were  awaiting  my  return 
somewhat  anxiously.  When  I  took  off  the  dress  I  had 
worn,  I  discovered  a  very  jagged  rent,  evidently  made  by 
the  spur  of  a  cavalier.  Brave,  brave  Captain  Smith! 
soon  he  gave  his  young  life  to  our  cause. 


"ain't  you  ashamed  oe  you'uns?" 

[Phoebe  Y.  Pember.] 

Directly  in  front  of  me  sat  an  old  Georgia  up-country 
woman,  placidly  regarding  the  box  cars  full  of  men  on 
the  parallel  rails,  waiting,  like  ourselves,  to  start.  She 
knitted  and  gazed,  and  at  last  inquired  "who  was  them 
ar'  soldiers,  and  whar'  was  they  a-going  to?"  The  in- 
formation that  they  were  Yankee  prisoners  startled  her 
considerably.  The  knitting  ceased  abruptly  (all  the  old 
women  in  the  Southern  States  knitted  socks  for  the  sol- 
diers while  traveling),  and  the  cracker  bonnet  of  dark 
brown  homespun  was  thrown  back  violently,  for  her 
whole  nervous  system  seemed  to  have  received  a  galvanic 
shock.  Then  she  caught  her  breath  with  a  long  gasp, 
lifted  on  high  her  thin,  trembling  hand,  accompanied  by 
the  trembling  voice,  and  made  a  speech : 

"Ain't  you  ashamed  of  you'uns,"  she  piped.  "A-com- 
ing  clown  here  a-spiling  our  country,  and  a-robbing  our 
hen-roosts?  What  did  we  ever  do  to  you'uns  that  you 
should  come  a-killing  our  brothers  and  sons  ?  Ain't  you 
ashamed  of  you'uns?  What  for  do  you  want  us  to  live 
with  you'uns,  you  poor  white  trash?  I  ain't  got  a  single 
nigger  that  would  be  so  mean  as  to  force  himself  where 
he  warn't  wanted,  and  what  do  we-uns  want  with  you? 
Ain't  you — "but  there  came  a  roar  of  laughter  from  both 
cars,  and,  shaking  with  excitement,  the  old  lady  pulled 
down  her  spectacles,  which  in  the  excitement  she  had 
pushed  up  on  her  forehead,  and  tried  in  vain  to  resume 
her  labors  with  uncertain  fingers. 


212  W0ME;N  Of"  THK  coni'Ederacy 

paivSe;  tketh 

[In  Richmond  During  the  War,  pages  165-166.] 

In  connection  with  the  battle  of  the  Cross  Keys,  we 
are  just  here  reminded  of  an  amusing  stratagem  of  a 
rebel  lady  to  conceal  her  age  and  charms  from  the  enemy, 
who  held  possession  of  her  house.  She  says :  "Mr.  K., 
you  know,  was  compelled  to  evacuate  his  premises  when 
the  Federals  took  possession,  and  succeeding  in  making 
good  their  escape,  left  me  here,  with  my  three  children, 
to  encounter  the  consequences  of  their  intrusion  upon 
my  premises.  Not  wishing  to  appear  quite  as  youthful 
as  I  really  am,  and  desiring  to  destroy,  if  possible,  any 
remains  of  my  former  beauty,  I  took  from  my  mouth  a 
set  of  false  teeth,  (which  I  was  compelled  to  have  put  in 
before  I  was  20  years  old,)  tied  a  handkerchief  around 
my  head,  donned  my  mcst  sloven  apparel,  and  in  every 
way  made  myself  as  hideous  as  possible.  The  disguise 
was  perfect.  I  was  sullen,  morose,  sententious.  You 
could  not  have  believed  I  could  so  long,  have  kept  up  a 
manner  so  disagreeable;  but  it  had  the  desired  effect. 
The  Yankees  called  me  'old  woman.'  They  took  little 
thought  I  was  not  30  years  of  age.  They  took  my  house 
for  a  hospital  for  their  sick  and  wounded,  and  allowed 
me  only  the  use  of  a  single  room,  and  required  of  me 
many  acts  of  assistance  in  nursing  their  men,  which  under 
any  circumstances  my  own  heart-promptings  would  have 
made  a  pleasure  to  me.  But  I  did  not  feel  disposed  to 
be  compelled  to  prepare  food  for  those  who  had  driven 
from  me  my  husband,  and  afterwards  robbed  me  of  all 
my  food  and  bed-furniture,  with  the  exception  of  what 
they  allowed  me  to  have  in  my  room.  But  they  were  not 
insulting  in  their  language  to  the  'old  woman,'  and  I 
endured  all  the  inconveniences  and  unhappiness  of  my 
situation  with  as  much  fortitude  as  I  could  bring  into 
operation,  feeling  that  my  dear  husband,  at  least,  was 
safe  from  harm.  After  they  left,"  she  continued,  "I  was 
forced  to  go  into  the  woods,  near  by,  and  with  my  two 
little  boys  pick  up  fagots  to  cook  the  scanty  food  left  to 
me."     This  is  the  story  of  one  of  the  most  luxuriously 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  213 

reared  women  of  Virginia,  and  is  scarcely  the  faintest 
shadow  of  what  many  endured  under  similar  circum- 
stances. 


Emma  sansom 


[Gen.    T.    Jordan   and   J.    P.    Pryor,    in    Campaigns   of    General    Forrest,    pages 

267-270.] 

The  Federal  column  under  Colonel  Streight  was  again 
overtaken  by  10  A.  M.,  on  the  2d;  and  the  Confederate 
general  selected  fifty  of  the  best  mounted  men,  with 
whom  his  escort  charged  swiftly  upon  its  rear  in  the  face 
of  a  hot  fire.  For  ten  miles  now,  to  Black  Creek,  an 
affluent  of  the  Coosa,  a  sharp,  running  conflict  occurred. 
The  Federals,  however,  effected  the  passage  of  the  stream 
without  hindrance,  by  a  bridge,  which,  being  old  and 
very  dry,  was  in  flames  and  impassable  as  the  Confeder- 
ates approached;  besides  which  it  was  commanded  by 
Streight^s  artillery,  planted  on  the  opposite  bank.  Bladk 
Creek  is  deep  and  rapid,  and  its  passage  in  the  immediate 
presence  of  the  Federal  force  was  an  impossibility  before 
which  even  Forrest  was  forced  to  pause  and  ponder. 
But  while  reflecting  upon  the  predicament,  he  was  ap- 
proached by  a  group  of  women,  one  of  whom,  a  tall, 
comely  girl  of  about  18  years  of  age,  stepped  forward 
and  inquired,  "Whose  command?" 

The  answer  was,  "The  advance  of  General  Forrest's 
cavalry." 

She  then  requested  that  General  Forrest  should  be 
pointed  out,  which  being  done,  advancing,  she  addressed 
him  nearly  in  these  words : 

"You  are  General  Forrest,  I  am  told.     I  know  of  an 
old  ford  to  which  I  could  guide  you,  if  I  had  a  horse. 
The  Yankees  have  taken  all  of  ours." 
Her  mother,  stepping  up,  exclaimed : 
"No,  Emma ;   people  would  talk  about  you." 
"I  am  not  afraid  to  trust  myself  with  as  brave  a  man 
as  General  Forrest,  and  don't  care  for  people's  talk,"  was 
the   prompt   rejoinder   of   this   Southern   girl,   her   face 
illuminated  with  emotion. 


214  WOMEJN  OF  THi:  CONI^EDIJRACY 

The  general  then  remarked,  as  he  rode  beside  a  log 
nearby :     "Well,  Miss ,  jump  up  behind  me." 

Quickly  or  without  an  instant  of  hesitation,  she  sprang 
from  the  log  behind  the  redoubtable  cavalry  leader,  and 
sat  ready  to  guide  him — under  as  noble  an  inspiration  of 
unalloyed,  courageous  patriotism  as  that  which  has  ren- 
dered the  Maid  of  Zaragossa  famous  for  all  time. 
Calling  for  a  courier  to  follow,  guided  by  Miss  Sansom, 
Forrest  rode  rapidly,  leaping  over  fallen  timber,  to  a 
point  about  half  a  mile  above  the  bridge,  where,  at  the 
foot  of  a  ravine,  she  said  there  was  a  practicable  ford. 
There,  dismounting,  they  walked  to  the  river-bank,  op- 
posite to  which,  on  the  other  side,  were  found  posted  a 
Federal  detachment,  who  opened  upon  both  immediately 
with  some  forty  small  arms,  the  balls  of  which  whistled 
close  by,  and  tore  up  the  ground  in  their  front  as  they 
approached.  Inquiring  naively  what  caused  the  noise, 
and  being  answered  that  it  was  the  sound  of  bullets,  the 
intrepid  girl  stepped  in  front  of  her  companion,  saying, 
"General,  stand  behind  me;  they  will  not  dare  shoot  me." 
Gently  putting  her  aside,  Forrest  observed  he  could  not 
possibly  suffer  her  to  do  so,  or  to  make  a  breastwork  of. 
herself,  and  gave  her  his  arm  so  as  to  screen  her  as  much 
as  possible.  By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  ravine. 
Placing  her  behind  the  shelter  afforded  by  the  roots  of  a 
fallen  tree,  he  asked  Miss  Sansom  to  remain  there  until 
he  could  reconnoitre  the  ford,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
descend  the  ravine  on  his  hands  and  knees.  After  having 
gone  some  fifty  yards  in  this  manner,  looking  back,  to 
his  surprise  and  regret,  she  was  immediately  at  his  back ; 
and  in  reply  to  his  remark  that  he  had  told  her  to  remain 
under  shelter,  replied:  "Yes,  General,  but  I  was  fearful 
that  you  might  be  wounded ;  and  it  is  my  purpose  to  be 
near  you." 

The  ford-mouth  reached  and  examined,  they  then  re- 
turned as  they  came,  through  the  ravine,  to  the  crown  of 
the  bank,  under  fire,  when  she  took  his  arm  as  before — 
an  open  mark  for  the  Federal  sharpshooters,  whose  fire 
for  some  instants  was  even  heavier  than  at  first;  and 
several  of  their  balls  actually  passed  through  her  skirts, 


WOMDN  OP  THE  CONPKDDRACY  21$ 

exciting  the  observation,  "They  have  only  wounded  my 
crinoHne."  At  the  same  time,  withdrawing  her  arm,  the 
dauntless  girl,  turning  round,  faced  the  enemy,  and  waved 
her  sun-bonnet  defiantly  and  repeatedly  in  the  air.  We 
are  pleased  to  be  able  to  record  that,  at  this,  the  hostile 
fire  was  stopped;  the  Federals  took  off  their  own  caps, 
and,  waving  them,  gave  three  hearty  cheers  of  approba- 
tion. Remounting,  Forrest  and  Miss  Sansom  returned 
to  the  command,  who  received  her  with  unfeigned  en- 
thusiasm. 

The  artillery  was  sent  forward,  and  with  a  few  shells, 
well  thrown,  quickly  drove  away  the  Federal  guard  at 
the  ford,  which  Major  McLemore  was  directed  to  seize 
with  his  regiment.  The  stream  was  boggy,  with  high, 
declivitous  banks  on  both  sides,  and  it  was  necessary  to 
take  the  ammunition  from  the  caissons  by  hand,  and  to 
force  the  animals  down  the  steep  slopes,  and  to  take  the 
ford,  but,  nevertheless,  the  passage  was  successfully  ef- 
fected in  less  than  two  hours.  Meantime,  the  Confed- 
erate general  delivered  his  fair,  daring  young  guide  back 
safely  into  the  hands  of  her  mother,  took  a  knightly  fare- 
well, inspired  by  the  romantic  coloring  of  the  occurrence, 
and  dashed  after  his  command  to  resume  the  chase,  as 
soon  as  the  passage  of  the  creek  was  effected. 


pre;side;nt  roosevelt's  mother  and  grandmother 

[By  J.  1,.  Underwood.] 

The  story  has  often  been  told  of  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  for- 
merly Miss  Bulloch,  of  Georgia,  and  mother  of  President 
Roosevelt,  that  early  in  the  war  between  the  States,  when 
a  regiment  of  Federal  soldiers  was  marching  past  her 
residence  in  New  York,  she  displayed  a  Confederate  flag 
at  her  window  and  refused  to  take  it  down  when  ordered 
to  do  so. 

In  October,  1905,  a  similar  story  was  told  by  the 
Philadelphia  correspondent  of  the  Richmond  Times- 
Dispatch   that   Mrs.    Bulloch,   the   grandmother   of   the 


2i6  woMDN  OS'  th:^  coni^e^deracy 

President,  at  some  period  of  the  war  did  the  same  thing 
in  that  city.  The  author  of  this  vohtme  was  about  to 
insert  both  incidents  when  a  moment's  reflection  caused 
him  to  hesitate.  He  remembered  that  both  the  ladies 
mentioned  were  typical  Southern  women,  of  one  of  the 
best  and  most  knightly  families.  The  stories  lack 
vraisemblance.  Whatever  may  have  been  their  sym- 
pathies during  the  war  between  the  States,  such  a  need- 
less display  as  that  indicated  in  the  stories  does  not  sound 
like  the  Bullochs  of  Georgia.  Southern  women  were  not 
given  to  showing  their  patriotism  by  waving  flags.  It 
is  rather  too  cheap.  Southern  women  of  the  best  type, 
while  members  of  Northern  families  or  guests  of  North- 
ern friends,  during  the  war,  would  not  volunteer  to 
flaunt  before  the  public  a  family  division  of  political 
sentiment  under  such  sad  circumstances.  In  addition  to 
this,  the  author  has  too  much  regard  for  the  sanctity  of 
home,  be  it  ever  so  humble  or  so  highly  exalted,  to  enter 
its  portals  for  a  striking  story  without  knocking  for  ad- 
mission. Under  the  circumstances  he  felt  it  due  to  con- 
sult our  magnanimous  President  himself  as  to  the 
authenticity  of  either  or  both  incidents.  President 
Roosevelt  kindly  forwarded  the  following  reply : 

"Ths  White;  House, 
Washington,  D.  C,  Nov.  20,  1905. 
Personal. 
Dear   Sir:     It  is   always  a  pleasure  to   hear   from 
an  old  Confederate  soldier,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
letter  and  for  the  kind  way  in  which  you  speak  of  me; 
but  that   incident  about  my   mother  never  took  place. 
This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  the  story  about  my 
grandmother  and  I  am  sure  it  is  equally  without  basis. 
My  grandmother  was  very  infirm  during  the  war  and  I 
do  not  believe  she  ever  lived  at  Philadelphia.     She  was 
with  us  in  New  York. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Theodore  Roosevelt. 
Rev.  J.  L.  Underwood, 

Kellam's  Hospital,  Richmond,  Va." 


WOMKN  OF  the:  CONI^EDDRACY  217 

Elsewhere  in  this  volume  it  is  shown  that  John  G. 
Whittier's  famous  story  of  Barbara  Freitchie  and  the 
Federal  flag  is  a  myth,  pure  and  simple.  This  letter  of 
the  President  consigns  the  two  stories  above  mentioned  to 
a  similar  fate.  The  Southern  people  will  thank  him  for 
it.  They  desire  nothing  but  simple  truth  about  their 
honored  President  and  his  family. 


THE  WTTI.E  GIRE  AT  CHANCELIvORSVILI.E 

General  Fitz  Hugh  Lee  loved  to  tell  of  the  little  girl  in 
the  house  where  Stonewall  Jackson  breathed  his  last, 
who  said  to  her  mother  that  she  "wished  that  God  would 
let  her  die  instead  of  the  general,  for  then  only  her 
mother  would  cry;  but  if  Jackson  died  all  the  people  of 
the  country  would  cry." 


SAVED  HER  HAMS 


In  Mississippi  a  farmer's  wife  heard  that  a  regiment 
of  Federal  cavalry  was  coming.  She  had  a  smoke-house 
full  of  fine  hams  and  shoulder  meat.  Immediately  she 
went  to  work,  and  when  the  soldiers  came  they  fOund 
the  meat  lying  all  about  the  yard  with  a  knife  hole  stuck 
deep  into  each  piece,  ^he  Yankees  rushed  in  and  began 
to  pick  it  up. 

"What's  the  matter  with  this  meat,  madam?  How 
came  these  holes  in  it  ?" 

"Now,  look  here,"  said  she,  "you  know  the  Confeder- 
ate cavalry  has  just  been  here,  and  if  you  all  get  poisoned 
by  that  meat  you  must  not  blame  me." 

They  left  the  meat. 


2i8  woMKN  oif  The:  coni^edkracy 

HEROISM  OE  A  WIDOW 

[Mrs.  Allie  McPeek,  in  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  23,  page  328;  from 
the  Atlanta  (Ga.)  Constitution,  November  9,  1905.] 

It  was  on  the  first  and  second  days  of  September,  1864, 
General  Hardee  of  the  Southern  forces  was  sent  to  Jones- 
boro  from  Atlanta  with  22,000  men  to  head  off  a  formid- 
able flank  movement  of  the  enemy,  which  had  for  its 
purpose  to  cut  off  Southern  communication  and  thereby 
compel  the  evacuation  of  the  city  of  Atlanta.  The  flank 
movement  consisted  of  40,000  men,  and  was  commanded 
chiefly  by  Major-General  John  M.  Schofield,  together 
with  General  Sedgwick,  who  was  also  a  corps  com- 
mander, and  consisted  of  the  best  fighters  of  the  Federal 
army. 

As  the  two  armies  confronted  each  other  two  miles  to 
the  north  and  northwest  of  Jonesboro,  it  so  happened 
that  the  little  house  and  farm  of  a  poor  old  widow  was 
just  between  the  two  lines  of  battle  when  the  conflict 
opened,  and,  having  nowhere  to  go,  she  was  necessarily 
caught  between  the  fire  of  the  two  commanding  lines  of 
battle,  which  was  at  comparatively  close  range  and  doing 
fierce  and  deadly  work.  The  house  and  home  of  this  old 
lady  was  soon  converted  into  a  Federal  hospital,  and 
with  the  varying  fortunes  she  was  alternately  within  the 
lines  of  each  contending  army,  when  not  between  them 
on  disputed  ground. 

During  the  whole  of  this  eventful  day  this  good  and 
brave  woman,  exposed  as  she  was  to  the  incessant  show- 
ers of  shot  and  shell  from  both  sides,  moved  fearlessly 
about  among  the  wounded  and  dying  of  both  sides  alike, 
and  without  making  the  slightest  distinction.  Finally 
night  closed  the  scene  with  General  Schofield's  army 
corps  in  possession  of  the  ground,  and  when  the  morn- 
ing dawned  it  found  this  grand  old  lady  still  at  her  post 
of  duty,  knowing,  too,  as  she  did,  the  fortunes,  or  rather 
misfortunes,  of  war  had  stripped  her  of  the  last  vestige 
of  property  she  had  except  her  little  tract  of  land  which 
had  been  laid  waste.  Now  it  was  that  General  John  M. 
Schofield,  having  known  her  suffering  and  destitute  con- 
dition, sent  her,  under  escort  and  arms,  a  large  wagon- 


WOMEN  o^  the:  conj^ederacy  2ig 

load  of  provisions  and  supplies,  and  caused  his  adjutant- 
general  to  write  her  a  long  and  touching  letter  of  thanks, 
and  wound  up  the  letter  with  a  special  request  that  she 
keep  it  until  the  war  was  over  and  present  it  to  the  United 
States  government,  and  they  would  repay  all  her  losses. 
She  kept  the  letter,  and  soon  after  the  Southern  Claims 
Commission  was  established  she  brought  it  to  the  writer, 
who  presented  her  claim  in  due  form,  and  she  was 
awarded  about  $600 — all  she  claimed,  but  not  being  all 
she  lost.  The  letter  is  now  on  file  with  other  proofs  of 
the  exact  truth  of  this  statement  with  the  files  of  the 
Southern  Claims  Commission  at  Washington.  Her 
name  was  Allie  McPeek,  and  she  died  several  years  ago. 


WINCHESTER  WOMEN 
[Fremantle's  Three  Months  in  Southern  l,ines.] 

Winchester  used  to  be  a  most  agreeable  town,  and  its 
society  extremely  pleasant.  Many  of  its  houses  are  now 
destroyed  or  converted  into  hospitals,  the  outlook  miser- 
able and  dilapidated.  Its  female  inhabitants  (for  the 
able-bodied  males  are  all  absent  in  the  army)  are 
familiar  with  the  bloody  realities  of  war.  As  many  as 
5,000  wounded  have  been  accommodated  here  at  one 
time.  All  the  ladies  are  accustomed  to  the  bursting  of 
shells  and  the  sight  of  fighting,  and  all  are  turned  into 
hospital  nurses  or  cooks. 


SPARTA  IN  MISSISSIPPI 
[Gen.  J.  B.  Gordon.] 

The  heroines  of  Sparta  who  gave  their  hair  for  bow- 
strings have  been  immortalized  by  the  muse  of  history; 
but  what  tongue  can  speak  or  pen  indite  a  tribute  worthy 
of  the  Mississippi  woman  who  with  her  own  hands  ap- 
plied the  torch  to  more  than  half  a  million  dollars'  worth 
of  cotton,  reducing  herself  to  poverty  rather  than  have 


220  woMBN  oif  The;  conS'Edeiracy 

that  cotton  employed  against  her  people.  The  day  will 
come,  and  I  believe  it  is  rapidly  approaching,  when  in  all 
will  be  seen  evidences  of  appreciation  of  these  inspiring 
incidents ;  when  all  lips  will  unite  in  expressing  gratitude 
to  God  that  they  belong  to  such  a  race  of  men  and 
women. 


"woman's  devotion" — A   WINCHESTER  HEROINE 
[Gen.  D.  H.  Maury,  in  Southern  Historical  Papers.] 

The  history  of  Winchester  is  replete  with  romantic 
and  glorious  memories  of  the  late  war.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  of  these  has  been  perpetuated  by  the  glowing 
pencil  of  Oregon  Wilson,  himself  a  native  of  this  valley, 
and  the  fine  picture  he  has  made  of  the  incident  portrayed 
by  him  has  drawn  tears  from  many  who  loved  their 
Southern  country  and  the  devoted  women  who  elated 
and  sanctified  by  their  heroic  sacrifices  the  cause  which, 
borne  down  for  a  time,  now  rises  again  to  honor  all  who 
sustained  it. 

That  truth,  which  is  stranger  than  fiction,  is  stronger, 
too.  The  simple  historic  facts  which  gave  Wilson  the 
theme  of  his  great  picture  gains  nothing  from  the  roman- 
tic glamour  his  beautiful  art  has  thrown  about  the  actors 
in  the  story. 

In  1864,  General  Ramseur,  commanding  a  Confeder- 
ate force  near  Winchester,  was  suddenly  attacked  by  a 
Federal  force  under  General  Averell,  and  after  a  sharp 
encounter  was  forced  back  through  the  town.  The 
battlefield  was  near  the  residence  of  Mr.  Rutherford, 
about  two  miles  distant,  and  the  wounded  were  gathered 
in  his  house  and  yard.  The  Confederate  surgeons  left 
in  charge  of  these  wounded  men  appealed  to  the  women 
of  Winchester  (the  men  had  all  gone  off  to  the  war)  to 
come  out  and  aid  in  dressing  the  wounds  and  nursing  the 
wounded.  As  was  always  the  way  of  these  Winchester 
women,  they  promptly  responded  to  this  appeal,  and  on 

the day  of  July  more  than  twenty  ladies  went  out 

to  Mr.  Rutherford's  to  minister  to  their  suffering  coun- 


wome;n  or'  the  confederacy  221 

trymen.  There  were  more  than  sixty  severely  wounded 
men  who  had  been  collected  from  the  battlefield  and  were 
lying  in  the  house  and  garden  of  Mr.  Rutherford.  The 
weather  was  warm,  and  those  out  of  doors  were  as  com- 
fortable and  as  quiet  as  those  within.  Amongst  them 
was  a  beardless  boy  named  Randolph  Ridgely;  he  was 
severely  hurt;  his  thigh  was  broken  by  a  bullet,  and  his 
sufferings  were  very  great;  his  nervous  system  was 
shocked  and  unstrung,  and  he  could  find  no  rest.  The 
kind  surgeon  in  charge  of  him  had  many  others  to  care 
for;  he  felt  that  quiet  sleep  was  all  important  for  his 
young  patient,  and  he  placed  him  under  charge  of  a 
young  girl  who  had  accompanied  these  ladies  from  Win- 
chester; told  her  his  life  depended  on  his  having  quiet 
sleep  that  night;  showed  her  how  best  to  support  his 
head,  and  promised  to  return  and  see  after  his  condition 
as  soon  and  as  often  as  his  duties  to  the  other  wounded 
would  permit. 

All  through  that  anxious  night  the  brave  girl  sat,  sus- 
taining the  head  of  the  wounded  youth  and  carefully 
guarding  him  against  everything  that  could  disturb  his 
rest  or  break  the  slumber  into  which  he  gently  sank,  and 
which  was  to  save  his  life.  She  only  knew  and  felt  that 
a  brave  Confederate  life  depended  on  her  care.  She  had 
never  seen  him  before,  nor  has  she  ever  seen  him  since. 
And  when  at  dawn  the  surgeon  came  to  her,  he  found  her 
still  watching  and  faithful,  just  as  he  had  left  her  at 
dark — as  only  a  true  woman,  as  we  love  to  believe  our 
Virginia  women,  can  be.  The  soldier  had  slept  soundly. 
He  awoke  only  once  during  the  night,  when  tired  nature 
forced  his  nurse  to  change  her  posture;  and  when  after 
the  morning  came  she  was  relieved  of  her  charge,  and 
she  fell  ill  of  the  exhaustion  and  exposure  of  that  night. 
Her  consolation  during  the  weary  weeks  she  lay  suffer- 
ing was  that  she  had  saved  a  brave  soldier  for  her 
country. 

In  the  succeeding  year,  Captain  Hancock,  of  the 
Louisiana  Infantry,  was  brought  to  Winchester,  wounded 
and  a  prisoner.  He  lay  many  weeks  in  the  hospital,  and 
when  nearly  recovered  of  his  wounds,  was  notified  that 


222  WOMDN  Olf  The:  CONlfDDElRACY 

he  would  be  sent  to  Fort  Delaware.  As  the  time  drew 
near  for  his  consignment  to  this  hopeless  prison,  he  con- 
fided to  Miss  Lenie  Russell,  the  same  young  girl  who 
had  saved  young  Ridgely's  life,  that  he  was  engaged  to 
be  married  to  a  lady  of  lower  Virginia,  and  was  resolved 
to  attempt  to  make  his  escape.  She  cordially  entered 
into  his  plans,  and  aided  in  their  successful  accomplish- 
ment. The  citizens  of  Winchester  were  permitted  some- 
times to  send  articles  of  food  and  comfort  to  the  sick 
and  wounded  Confederates,  and  Miss  Russell  availed  her- 
self of  this  to  procure  the  escape  of  the  gallant  captain. 
She  caused  him  to  don  the  badge  of  a  hospital  attendant, 
take  a  market  basket  on  his  arm  and  accompany  her  to  a 
house,  whence  he  might,  with  least  danger  of  detection 
and  arrest,  effect  his  return  to  his  own  lines.  Captain 
Hancock  made  good  use  of  his  opportunity  and  safely  re- 
joined his  comrades;  survived  the  war;  married  his 
sweetheart,  and  to  this  day  omits  no  occasion  for  show- 
ing his  respect  and  gratitude  for  the  generous  woman  to 
whose  courage  and  address  he  owes  his  freedom  and  his 
happiness. 


SPOKEJN  IvIKE:  CORNKIvIA 
[From   The   Gray   Jacket,   page   529.] 

A  young  lady  of  Louisiana,  whose  father's  plantation 
had  been  brought  within  the  enemy's  lines  in  their  opera- 
tions against  Vicksburg,  was  frequently  constrained  by 
the  necessities  of  her  situation  to  hold  conversation  with 
the  Federal  officers.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  a 
Yankee  official  inquired  how  she  managed  to  preserve 
her  equanimity  and  cheerfulness  and  so  many  trials  and 
privations,  and  such  severe  reverses  of  fortune.  "Our 
army,"  said  he,  "has  deprived  your  father  of  two  hun- 
dred negroes,  and  literally  desolated  two  magnificent 
plantations." 

She  said  to  the  officer — a  leader  of  that  army,  which 
had,  for  months,  hovered  around  Vicksburg,  powerless 
to  take  it  with  all  their  vast  appliances  of  war,  and  morti- 


WOMEN  0^  THi:  CON^DDERACY  223 

fied  by  their  repeated  failures:  "I  am  not  insensible  to 
the  comforts  and  elegances  which  fortune  can  secure, 
and  of  which  your  barbarian  hordes  have  deprived  me; 
but  a  true  Southern  woman  will  not  weep  over  them, 
while  her  country  remains.  If  you  wish  to  crush  me, 
take  Vicksburg." 


A  SPECIMEN  MOTHER 
[Mrs.   Fannie  A.   Beers'  Memories,  pages  208-309.] 

At  the  commencement  of  the  war  there  lived  in 
Sharon,  Miss.,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  O'Leary,  surrounded 
by  a  family  of  five  stalwart  sons.  Mrs.  Catherine 
O'Leary  was  a  fond  and  loving  mother,  but  also  an  un- 
faltering patriot,  and  her  heart  was  fired  with  love  for 
the  cause  of  Southern  liberty.  Therefore  when  her  brave 
sons,  one  after  another,  went  forth  to  battle  for  the  right, 
she  bade  them  God-speed.  "Be  true  to  your  God  and- 
your  country,"  said  this  noble  woman,  "and  never  dis- 
grace your  mother  by  flinching  from  duty." 

Her  youngest  and,  perhaps,  dearest,  was  at  that  time 
only  14.  For  a  while  she  felt  that  his  place  was  by  her 
side;  but  in  1863,  when  he  was  barely  17,  she  no  longer 
tried  to  restrain  him.  Her  trembling  hands,  having 
arrayed  the  last  beloved  boy  for  the  sacrifice,  rested  in 
blessings  on  his  head  ere  he  went  forth.  Repressing  the 
agony  which  swelled  her  heart,  she  calmly  bade  him, 
also,  "Do  your  duty.  If  you  must  die,  let  it  be  with 
your  face  to  the  foe."  And  so  went  forth  James  A. 
O'Leary,  at  the  tender  age  of  17,  full  of  ardor  and  hope. 
He  was  at  once  assigned  to  courier  duty  under  General 
Loring.  On  the  28th  of  July,  1864,  at  the  battle  of 
Atlanta,  he  was  shot  through  the  hip,  the  bullet  remain- 
ing in  the  wound,  causing  intense  suffering,  until  1870, 
when  it  was  extracted,  and  the  wound  healed  for  the  first 
time.  Notwithstanding  this  wound,  he  insisted  upon 
returning  to  his  command,  which,  in  the  mean  time,  had 
joined  Wood's  regiment  of  cavalry.     This  was  in  1865, 


224  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONEEDERACY 

and,  so  wounded,  he  served  three  months,  surrendering 
with  General  Wirt  Adams  at  Gainesville.  A  short  but 
very  glorious  record.  Mrs.  O'Leary  still  lives  in  Sharon. 
The  old  fire  is  unquenched. 


MRS.  RODNEY 
[Mrs.    Fannie   A.   Beers'   Memories,  pages   217-220.] 

There  is  one  bright,  shining  record  of  a  patriotic  and 
tireless  woman  which  remains  undimmed  when  placed 
beside  that  of  the  most  devoted  Confederate  women.  I 
refer  to  Mrs.  Rose  Rooney,  of  Company  K,  Fifteenth 
Louisiana  Regiment,  who  left  New  Orleans  in  June, 
1 861,  and  never  deserted  the  "b'ys"  for  a  day  until  the 
surrender. 

She  was  no  hanger-on  about  camp,  but  in  everything 
but  actual  fighting  was  as  useful  as  any  of  the  boys  she 
loved  with  all  her  big,  warm,  Irish  heart,  and  served 
with  the  undaunted  bravery  which  led  her  to  risk  the 
dangers  of  every  battlefield  where  the  regiment  was  en- 
gaged, unheeding  havoc  made  by  the  solid  shot,  so  that 
she  might  give  timely  succor  to  the  wounded  or  comfort 
the  dying.  When  in  camp  she  looked  after  the  comfort 
of  the  regiment,  both  sick  and  well,  and  many  a  one 
escaped  being  sent  to  the  hospital  because  Rose  attended 
to  him  so  well.  She  managed  to  keep  on  hand  a  stock 
of  real  coffee,  paying  at  times  $35  per  pound  for  it.  The 
surrender  almost  broke  her  heart.  Her  defiant  ways 
caused  her  to  be  taken  prisoner.  I  will  give  in  her  own 
words  an  account  of  what  followed : 

"Sure,  the  Yankees  took  me  prisoner  along  with  the 
rest.  The  next  day,  when  they  were  changing  the  camps 
to  fix  up  for  the  wounded,  I  asked  them  what  they  would 
do  with  me.  They  tould  me  to  'go  to  the  devil.'  I  tould 
them,  'I've  been  long  in  his  company;  I'd  choose  some- 
thing better.'  I  then  asked  them  where  any  Confederates 
lived.  They  tould  me  about  three  miles  through  the 
woods.    On  my  way  I  met  some  Yankees.     They  asked 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  225 

me,  'What  have  you  in  that  bag?'  I  said,  'Some  rags  of 
my  own.'  I  had  a  lot  of  rags  on  the  top,  but  six  new 
dresses  at  the  bottom;  and  sure,  I  got  off  with  them  all. 
Then  they  asked  me  if  I  had  any  money.  I  said  no; 
but  in  my  stocking  I  had  two  hundred  dollars  in  Confed- 
erate money.  One  of  the  Yankees,  a  poor  devil  of  a 
private  soldier,  handed  me  three  twenty-five  cents  of 
Yankee  money.  I  said  to  him,  'Sure,  you  must  be  an 
Irishman.'  'Yes,'  said  he.  I  then  went  on  till  I  got  to 
the  house.  Mrs.  Crump  and  her  sister  were  in  the  yard, 
and  about  twenty  negro  women — no  men.  I  had  not  a 
bite  for  two  days,  nor  any  water,  so  I  began  to  cry  from 
weakness.  Mrs.  Crump  said,  'Don't  cry ;  you  are  among 
friends.'  She  then  gave  me  plenty  to  eat, — hot  hoecakes 
and  buttermilk.  I  stayed  there  fifteen  days,  superintend- 
ing the  cooking  for  the  sick  and  wounded  men.  One 
half  of  the  house  was  full  of  Confederates  and  the  other 
of  Yankees.  They  then  brought  us  to  Burkesville,  where 
all  the  Yankees  were  gathered  together.  There  was  an. 
ould  doctor  there,  and  he  began  to  curse  me,  and  to  talk 
about  all  we  had  done  to  their  prisoners.  I  tould  him, 
'And  what  have  you  to  say  to  what  you  done  to  our 
poor  fellows?'  He  tould  me  to  shut  up,  and  sure  I  did. 
They  asked  me  fifty  questions  after,  and  I  never  opened 
me  mouth.  The  next  day  was  the  day  when  all  the  Con- 
federate flags  came  to  Petersburg.  I  had  some  papers 
in  my  pocket  that  would  have  done  harrum  to  some 
people,  so  I  chewed  them  all  up  and  ate  them ;  but  I 
wouldn't  take  the  oath,  and  I  never  did  take  it.  The 
flags  were  brought  in  on  dirt-carts  and  as  they  passed 
the  Federal  camps  them  Yankees  would  unfurl  them  and 
shake  them  about  to  show  them.  My  journey  from 
Burkesville  to  Petersburg  was  from  ii  in  the  morning 
till  II  at  night,  and  I  sitting  on  my  bundle  all  the  way. 
The  Yankee  soldiers  in  the  car  were  cursing  me,  and 
calling  me  a  damn  rebel,  and  more  ugly  talk.  I  said, 
'Mabbe  some  of  you  has  got  a  mother  or  wife;  if  so, 
you'll  show  some  respect  for  me.'  Then  they  were  quiet, 
I  had  to  walk  three  miles  to  Captain  Buckner's  headquar- 
15 


226  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

ters.  The  family  were  in  the  house  near  the  battle- 
ground, but  the  door  was  shut,  and  I  didn't  know  who 
was  inside,  and  I  couldn't  see  any  light.  I  sat  down 
on  the  porch,  and  thought  I  would  have  to  stay  there  all 
night.  After  a  while  I  saw  a  light  coming  from  under 
the  door,  and  so  I  knocked;  when  the  door  was  opened 
and  they  saw  who  it  was,  they  were  all  delighted  to  see 
me  because  they  were  afraid  I  was  dead.  I  wanted  to  go 
to  Richmond,  but  would  not  go  on  a  Yankee  transporta- 
tion. When  the  brigade  came  down,  I  cried  me  heart 
out  because  I  was  not  let  go  on  with  them.  I  stayed 
three  months  with  Mrs,  Cloyd,  and  then  Major  Rawle 
sent  me  forty  dollars  and  fifty  more  if  I  needed  it,  and 
that  brought  me  home  to  New  Orleans." 

Mrs.  Rooney  is  still  cared  for  and  cherished  by  the 
veterans  of  Louisiana.  At  the  Soldiers'  Home  she  holds 
the  position  of  matron,  and  her  little  room  is  a  shrine 
never  neglected  by  visitors  to  "Camp  Nichols." 


WARNING  BY  A  BRAVE  GIRE 
[Our  Women  in  the  War,  pages  63-64.] 

I  know  of  a  girl  who  rode  through  the  storm  of  a 
winter's  night,  many  miles,  to  give  information  to  our 
soldiers  when  Sherman  was  on  his  way  to  Atlanta. 
The  country  far  and  wide  was  filled  with  soldiers,  and 
skirmishing  was  of  constant  occurrence.  By  her  efforts 
many  lives  were  saved,  and  as  she  returned  homeward 
the  shot  and  shell  were  falling  thick  and  fast  around  her. 
Later,  a  desperate  encounter  took  place  in  her  father's 
yard  between  contending  armies,  and  her  courage  was 
wonderful  in  assisting  the  wounded  and  baffling  inquiries 
from  the  Yankee  officers,  who  made  headquarters  in  her 
home.  She  still  managed  to  give  important  information, 
and  defied  detection.  This  girl  is  of  an  ancient  family, 
and  soldier  blood  is  in  her  veins.  Her  grandfather  was 
a  general  in  the  United  States  army  before  her  mother 
was  grown. 


WOMEN  OF  the;  coNifi;DE;RACY  227 

A  PI.UCKY  GIRIy  WITH  A  PISTOI, 
[Our  Women  in  the  War,  pages  37-39-] 

Charleston  was  under  an  iron  heel,  the  heel  of  despair. 
Every  house  had  its  shutters  closed  and  darkened;  all 
the  rooms  overlooking  the  streets  were  abandoned;  the 
women  endeavored  to  give  a  deserted  and  dreary  aspect 
to  every  mansion,  and  lived  as  retiringly  as  possible  in 
the  back  portions  of  their  dwellings,  hoping  that  the 
Northern  soldiery  in  the  city  would  suppose  such  houses 
to  be  deserted  and  therefore  would  not  search  them. 

But  this  did  not  save  Mr.  Cunningham's  house.  By 
a  strange  coincidence  it  was  again  a  company  of  black 
Michigan  troops,  with  a  negro  in  command,  that  burst 
open  the  locked  gate,  tore  up  the  flower  garden,  and 
finally  streamed  up  the  back  piazza  steps,  armed  with 
muskets  and  glittering  bayonets  that  shone  in  the  noon- 
day sun,  their  faces  blacker  than  ink,  their  eyes  red  with 
drink  and  malice.  The  three  girls  saw  them  from  thg 
dining-room  and  shivered,  but  not  one  moment  was  lost. 
Cecil  pushed  the  other  two  into  the  room,  saying,  "Stay 
here,  I  will  go  close  this  door  and  meet  them,"  and  ad- 
vancing quickly  she  reached  the  entrance  to  the  piazza 
just  as  the  captain  set  his  foot  on  the  last  step,  and 
would  have  entered,  but  that  her  slight  person  filled  up 
the  narrow  space. 

"What  do  you  want  here?"  she  asked.  "Why  do  you 
and  your  troops  rush  into  my  house  ?" 

"We  want  quarters  here,  and  quarters  we  will  have. 
Move  aside  and  let  us  in." 

"I  shall  not;  we  don't  take  boarders,  and  I  have  not 
invited  you  as  guests.  Go  away  at  once,  or  I  will  report 
you  to  the  general  in  command." 

"D n  you,  move  aside,  or  I  will  throw  you  down." 

"Keep  your  hands  off  if  you  are  wise,"  said  Cecil, 
instantly  placing  one  of  her  own  in  her  pocket,  and  never 
removing  her  steady  eyes  from  his  face. 

"By  God !  I  believe  you  have  got  a  pistol ;  let's  search 
her  person  for  arms." 

"I  have  a  pistol  and  shall  shoot  the  first  person  that 


228  WOME^N  01^  the:  CONI^DDKRACY 

touches  me,  even  if  you  all  strike  and  kill  me  afterwards. 
Leave  this  yard,  and  do  it  at  once.  By  3  o'clock  I  will 
give  you  an  answer  if  you  come  here  for  quarters  then; 
now  go !" 

"You  little  rebel  devil !  We  will  be  back,  and  we  will 
stay  next  time,  be  sure;  and  will  take  that  same  pistol 
from  you,  too." 

With  an  extra  volley  of  fearful  curses  they  departed 
and  the  girls  rushed  to  Cecil,  who,  after  the  excitement 
was  over  and  nerve  no  longer  needed,  turned  white  and 
faint.  Then  they  all  sat  down  and  cried,  feeling  like 
desolate  orphans. 


MOSBY'S  ME;N  and  two  NOBL,e:  GiRLrS 
[In  Wearing  of  the  Gray,  pages  S4S-S47-] 

The  force  at  Morgan's  Lane  was  too  great  to  meet 
front  to  front,  and  the  ground  so  unfavorable  for  receiv- 
ing their  assault,  that  Mountjoy  gave  the  order  for  his 
men  to  save  themselves,  and  they  abandoned  the  pris- 
oners and  horses,  put  spurs  to  their  animals,  and  re- 
treated at  full  gallop  past  the  mill,  across  a  little  stream, 
and  up  the  long  hill  upon  which  was  situated  the  mansion 
above  referred  to.  Behind  them  the  one  hundred  Fed- 
eral cavalrymen  came  on  at  full  gallop,  calling  upon  them 
to  halt,  and  firing  volleys  into  them  as  they  retreated. 

We  beg  now  to  introduce  upon  the  scene  the  female 
dramatis  personae  of  the  incident — two  young  ladies  who 
had  hastened  out  to  the  fence  as  soon  as  the  firing  began, 
and  now  witnessed  the  whole.  As  they  reached  the 
fence,  the  fifteen  men  of  Captain  Mountjoy  appeared, 
mounting  the  steep  road  like  lightning,  closely  pursued 
by  the  Federal  cavalry,  whose  dense  masses  completely 
filled  the  narrow  road.  The  scene  at  the  moment  was 
sufficient  to  try  the  nerves  of  the  young  ladies.  The 
clash  of  hoofs,  the  crack  of  carbines,  the  loud  cries  of 
"halt!  halt!!  halt!!!" — this  tramping,  shouting,  bang- 
ing, to  say  nothing  of  the  quick  hiss  of  bullets  filling  the 
air,  rendered  the  "place  and  time"  more  stirring  than, 


WOMEN  OP  the:  confederacy  229 

agreeable  to  one  consulting  the  dictates  of  a  prudent 
regard  to  his  or  her  safety. 

Nevertheless,  the  young  ladies  did  not  stir.  They  had 
half  mounted  the  board  fence,  and  in  this  elevated  posi- 
tion were  exposed  to  a  close  and  dangerous  fire;  more 
than  one  bullet  burying  itself  in  the  wood  close  to  their 
persons.  But  they  did  not  move — and  this  for  a  reason 
more  creditable  than  mere  curiosity  to  witness  the  en- 
gagement, which  may,  however,  have  counted  for  some- 
thing. This  attracted  them,  but  they  were  engaged  in 
"doing  good,"  too.  It  was  of  the  last  importance  that 
the  men  should  know  where  they  could  cross  the  river. 

"Where  is  the  nearest  ford?"  they  shouted. 

"In  the  woods  there,"  was  the  reply  of  one  of  the 
young  ladies,  pointing  with  her  hand,  and  not  moving. 

"How  can  we  reach  it?" 

"Through  the  gate,"  and  waving  her  hand,  the  speaker 
directed  the  rest,  amid  a  storm  of  bullets  burying  them- 
selves in  the  fence  close  beside  her.  ' 

The  men  went  at  full  gallop  towards  the  ford.  Last 
of  all  came  Mountjoy — but  Mountjoy,  furious,  foaming 
almost  at  the  mouth,  on  fire  with  indignation,  and  utter- 
ing oaths  so  frightful  that  they  terrified  the  young  ladies 
much  more  than  the  balls  or  the  Federal  cavalry  darting 
up  the  hill. 

The  partisan  had  scarcely  disappeared  in  the  woods, 
when  the  enemy  rushed  up,  and  demanded  which  way 
the  Confederates  had  taken. 

"I  will  not  tell  you,"  was  the  reply  of  the  youngest 
girl.  The  trooper  drew  a  pistol,  and  cocking  it,  levelled 
it  at  her  head. 

"Which  way?"  he  thundered. 

The  young  lady  shrunk  from  the  muzzle,  and  said: 
"How  do  I  know?" 

"Move  on!"  resounded  from  the  lips  of  the  officer  in 
command,  and  the  column  rushed  by,  nearly  trampling 
upon  the  ladies,  who  ran  into  the  house. 

Here  a  new  incident  greeted  them,  and  one  sufficiently 
tragic.  Before  the  door,  sitting  on  his  horse,  was  a 
trooper,   clad  in  blue — and  at  sight  of  him  the  ladies 


230  woMEjN  01''  the;  coni'e^ddracy 

shrunk  back.  A  second  glance  showed  them  that  he  was 
bleeding  to  death  from  a  mortal  wound.  The  bullet  had 
entered  his  side,  traversed  the  body,  issued  from  the  op- 
posite side,  inflicting  a  wound  which  rendered  death 
almost  certain. 

"Take  me  from  my  horse!"  murmured  the  wounded 
man,  stretching  out  his  arms  and  tottering. 

The  young  girls  ran  to  him. 

"Who  are  you — one  of  the  Yankees  ?"  they  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  no !"  was  the  faint  reply.  "I  am  one  of  Mount- 
joy's  men.  Tell  him,  when  you  see  him,  that  I  said, 
'Captain,  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  gone  out  with  you, 
and  the  last !'  " 

As  they  assisted  him  from  the  saddle,  he  murmured : 
"My  name  is  William  Armistead  Braxton.  I  have  a  wife 
and  three  little  children  living  in  Hanover — ^you  must  let 
them  know — " 

The  poor  fellow  fainted;  and  the  young  ladies  were 
compelled  to  carry  him  in  their  arms  into  the  house, 
where  he  was  laid  upon  a  couch,  writhing  in  agony. 

They  had  then  time  to  look  at  him,  and  saw  before 
them  a  young  man  of  gallant  countenance,  elegant 
figure — in  every  outline  of  his  person  betraying  the  gen- 
tleman born  and  bred.  They  afterwards  discovered  that 
he  had  just  joined  Mosby,  and  that,  as  he  had  stated,  this 
was  his  first  scout.    Poor  fellow !  it  was  also  his  last. 


A  SPARTAN  dame;  AND  HE;r  YOUNG 
[From  The  Gray  Jacket,  page  488.] 

"We  were  once,"  says  General  D.  H.  Hill,  "witness 
to  a  remarkable  piece  of  coolness  in  Virginia.  A  six- 
gun  battery  was  shelling  the  woods  furiously  near  which 
stood  a  humble  hut.  As  we  rode  by,  the  shells  were 
fortunately  too  high  to  strike  the  dwelling,  but  this  might 
occur  any  moment  by  lowering  the  angle  or  shortening 
the  fire.  The  husband  was  away,  probably  far  off  in  the 
army,  but  the  good  housewife  was  busy  at  the  wash-tub, 


W0ME;N  Olf  Tut  CONf'EjDKRACY  23 1 

regardless  of  all  the  roar  and  crash  of  shells  and  falling 
timber.  Our  surprise  at  her  coolness  was  lost  in  greater 
amazement  at  observing  three  children,  the  oldest  not 
more  than  lo,  on  top  of  a  fence,  watching  with  great 
interest  the  flight  of  the  shells.  Our  curiosity  was  so 
much  excited  by  the  extraordinary  spectacle  that  we 
could  not  refrain  from  stopping  and  asking  the  children 
if  they  were  not  afraid.  'Oh,  no,'  replied  they,  'the 
Yankees  ain't  shooting  at  us,  they  are  shooting  at  the 
soldiers.'  " 


SINGING  UNDKR  J^IRE) 
[A  RebeFs  Recollections,  pages  72-73.] 

They  [the  women  of  Petersburg]  carried  their  efforts 
to  cheer  artd  help  the  troops  into  every  act  of  their  lives. 
When  they  could,  they  visited  camp.  Along  the  lines  of 
march  they  came  out  with  water  or  coffee  or  tea — the 
best  they  had,  whatever  it  might  be;  with  flowers,  or- 
garlands  of  green  when  their  flowers  were  gone.  A 
bevy  of  girls  stood  under  a  sharp  fire  from  the  enemy's 
lines  at  Petersburg  one  day,  while  they  sang  Bayard 
Taylor's  "Song  of  the  Camp,"  responding  to  an  encore 
with  the  stanza : — 

"Ah!    soldiers,  to  yoi:r  honored  rest, 
Your  truth  and  valor  bearing; 
The  bravest  are  the  tenderest, 
The  loving  are  the  daring!" 

.    ■.■;,;  n;:!ij[ 

Indeed,  the  coolness  of  women  under  fire  was  always 
a  matter  of  surprise  to  me.  A  young  girl,  not  more 
than  16  years  of  age,  acted  as  guide  to  a  scouting  party 
during  the  early  years  of  the  war,  and  when  we  urged 
her  to  go  back  after  the  enemy  had  opened  a  vigorous 
fire  upon  us,  she  declined,  on  the  plea  that  she  believed 
we  were  "going  to  charge  those  fellows,"  and  she 
"wanted  to  see  the  fun."  At  Petersburg  women  did 
their  shopping  and  went  about  their  duties  under  a  most 
uncomfortable  bombardment,  without  evincing  the  slight- 
est fear  or  showing  any  nervousness  whatever. 


232  WOMEN  Of'  The;  confe;de;racy 

A  woman's  last  word 

[Eggleston,  in  Southern  Soldier  Stories,  pages  225-227.] 

The  city  of  Richmond  was  in  flames.  We  were  be- 
ginning that  last  terrible  retreat  which  ended  the  war. 
Fire  had  been  set  to  the  arsenal  as  a  military  possession^ 
which  must  on  no  account  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands. 
As  the  flames  spread,  because  of  a  turn  of  the  wind, 
other  buildings  caught.  The  whole  business  part  of  the 
city  was  on  fire.  To  make  things  worse,  some  idiot  had 
ordered  that  all  the  liquor  in  the  city  should  be  poured 
into  the  gutters.  The  rivers  of  alcohol  had  been  ignited 
from  the  burning  buildings.  It  was  a  time  and  scene 
of  unutterable  terror. 

As  we  marched  up  the  fire-lined  street,  with  the  flames 
scorching  the  very  hair  off  our  horses,  George  Good- 
smith — the  best  cannoneer  that  ever  wielded  a  rammer — 
came  up  to  the  headquarters  squad,  and  said :  "Captain, 
my  wife's  in  Richmond.  We've  been  married  less  than  a 
year.  She  is  soon  to  become  a  mother.  I  beg  permis- 
sion to  bid  her  good-bye.     I'll  join  the  battery  later." 

The  permission  was  granted  readily,  and  George  Good- 
smith  put  spurs  to  his  horse.  He  had  just  been  made  a 
sergeant,  and  was  therefore  mounted.  It  was  in  the  gray 
of  the  morning  that  he  hurriedly  met  his  wife.  With 
caresses  of  the  tenderest  kind,  he  bade  her  farewell. 
Realizing  for  a  moment  the  utter  hopelessness  of  our 
making  another  stand  on  the  Roanoke,  or  any  other  line, 
he  said  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul :  "Why  shouldn't  I 
stay  here  and  take  care  of  you?" 

The  woman  straightened  herself  and  replied:  "I 
would  rather  be  the  widow  of  a  brave  man  than  the  wife 
of  a  coward." 

That  was  their  parting,  for  the  time  was  very  short. 
Mayo's  bridge  across  the  James  River  was  already  in 
flames  when  Goodsmith  perilously  galloped  across  it. 

Three  or  four  days  later — for  I  never  could  keep  tab 
on  time  at  that  period  of  the  war — we  went  into  the 
battle  at  Farmville.    Goodsmith  was  in  his  place  in  com- 


woM^N  o]?  tut  confedi;racy  233 

mand  of  the  piece.  Just  before  fire  opened  he  beckoned 
to  me,  and  I  rode  up  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

"I'm  going  to  be  killed,  I  think,"  he  said.  "If  I  am, 
I  want  my  wife  to  know  that  she  is  the  widow  of  a — 
brave  man.  I  want  her  to  know  that  I  did  my  duty  to 
the  last.  And — and  if  you  live  long  enough  and  this 
thing  don't  kill  Mary — I  want  you  to  tell  the  little  one 
about  his  father." 

Goodsmith's  premonition  of  his  death  was  one  of  many 
that  were  fulfilled  during  the  war.  A  moment  later  a 
fearful  struggle  began.  At  the  first  fire  George  Good- 
smith's  wife  became  the  "widow  of  a  brave  man,"  His 
body  was  heavy  with  lead. 

His  son,  then  unborn,  is  now  a  successful  broker  in  a 
great  city.  There  is  nothing  particularly  knightly  or 
heroic  about  him,  for  this  is  not  a  knightly  or  heroic  age. 
But  he  takes  very  tender  care  of  his  mother — that 
"widow  of  a  brave  man." 


TWO   MISSISSIPPI   GIRLS  HOLD  YANKEES  AT   PISTOE  POINT 
[In  Richmond  Enquirer,  July  .-22,   1862,  page  3.] 

A  Memphis  correspondent  of  the  Appeal,  in  referring 
to  the  bad  treatment  of  citizens  by  the  Federal  soldiers, 
related  the  following : 

The  most  unmanly  and  brutal  act  that  I  know  of  is 
their  treatment  of  two  Misses  Coe.  Levin  Coe,  their 
brother,  was  at  home,  discharged  from  the  army.  They 
surrounded  the  house  before  the  family  knew  they  were 
on  the  place.  Fortunately  young  Coe  had  gone  fishing, 
and  two  of  his  sisters  escaped  to  the  garden  and  ran  to 
warn  him  not  to  come  home.  The  Yankees  saw  the 
way  they  went,  and  followed  them,  but  the  sisters  out- 
ran them  and  gave  their  brother  the  information  of  their 
coming.  They  came  up  with  the  ladies  at  a  house  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  creek,  and  attempted  to  arrest  them, 
but  they  were  both  armed  and  dared  the  six  big,  strap- 
ping Yankees  to  lay  their  hands  on  them.     One  would 


234  WOMDN  01^  THK  CONFDdKRACY 

say  to  another,  "She's  got  a  pistol;  take  it  away  from 
her."  And  she,  a  weak  woman,  stood  at  bay  and  told 
them  to  touch  her  at  their  peril.  And  the  craven  wretches 
dared  not  do  it.  At  last,  to  get  them  from  the  neighbor- 
hood of  their  brother,  they  agreed  to  go  to  headquarters 
with  them.  It  was  then  noon,  and  these  girls  had  run 
two  miles,  and  then  these  scoundrels  marched  them  off 
on  foot  four  miles  to  town.  At  every  step  they  tried  to 
get  their  pistols  from  them,  threatening  them  with  instant 
death  if  they  did  not  give  them  up.  Three  times  they 
placed  their  pistols  at  the  girls'  hearts  with  them  cocked 
and  their  fingers  on  the  trigger,  telling  them  they  would 
kill  them.  Each  time  the  girls  replied,  "Shoot;  I  can 
shoot  as  quick  as  you  can."  And  they  never  did  give 
them  up  until  their  brother-in-law  came  up  with  them  and 
told  them  to  do  so,  and  he  gave  himself  up  in  their  place. 
Levin  Coe  escaped. 


WAR  WOME:n     01?  PDTKRSBURG 

[Southern  Soldier  Stories,  pages  72-73.] 

During  all  those  weary  months  the  good  women  of 
Petersburg  went  about  their  household  affairs  with  fif- 
teen-inch shells  dropping  occasionally  into  their  boudoirs 
or  uncomfortably  near  to  their  kitchen  ranges.  Yet  they 
paid  no  attention  to  any  danger  that  threatened  them- 
selves. Their  deeds  of  mercy  will  never  be  adequately 
recorded  until  the  angels  report.  But  this  much  I  want 
to  say  of  them — they  were  "war  women"  of  the  most 
daring  and  devoted  type.  When  there  was  need  of  their 
ministrations  on  the  line,  they  were  sure  to  be  promptly 
there ;  and  once,  as  I  have  recorded  elsewhere  in  print,  a 
bevy  of  them  came  out  to  the  lines  only  to  encourage  us, 
and,  under  a  fearful  fire,  sang  Bayard  Taylor's  "Song  of 
the  Camp,"  giving  as  an  encore  the  lines : 

"Ah!     soldiers,    to  your   honored   rest. 
Your  truth  and  valor  bearing; 
The  bravest  are  the  tenderest, 
The    loving   are   the    daring." 


WOMIiN  01?  THE  CONf'DDDRACY  235 

With  inspiration  such  as  these  women  gave  us,  it  was 
no  wonder  that,  as  I  heard  General  Sherman  say  soon 
after  the  war :  "It  took  us  four  years,  with  aU  our  enor- 
mous superiority  in  resources,  to  overcome  the  stubborn 
resistance  of  those  men." 


JOHN  Ai,i,i?N  s  cow 


While  General  Milroy  was  in  possession  of  Winches- 
ter he  was  extremely  harsh  and  vindictive  towards  the 
people.  A  great  many  of  them  were  reduced  to  the 
borders  of  starvation.  Miss  Allen,  a  15-year-old  South- 
ern girl,  was  a  member  of  a  family  almost  absolutely 
dependent  on  a  good  cow's  milk  for  sustenance.  In  a 
short  time  the  cow's  food  was  exhausted  and  the  prospect 
looked  dark  indeed.  There  was  a  good  pasturage  just 
outside  the  town,  beyond  the  guard  lines  of  the  Federal 
troops.  The  brave  girl  volunteered  to  lead  the  cow  out 
and  attend  her  while  grazing.  A  permit  to  pass  the  lines 
from  General  Milroy  was  necessary.  She  went  to  the 
general  and  laid  her  case  before  him  and  asked  for  a 
permit.  He  flatly  refused  her  request  and  rudely  in- 
sulted the  poor  girl. 

"I  can't  do  anything  for  you  rebels  and  I  will  not  let 
you  pass.    The  rebellion  has  got  to  be  crushed,"  said  he. 

''Well,"  answered  the  girl,  "if  you  think  you  can  crush 
the  rebellion  by  starving  John  Allen's  old  cow,  just  crush 
away." 


THE  EAMiEY  That  had  no  euck 

[Eggleston,  in  Southern  Soldier  Stories,  pages  23-24.] 

At  the  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  as  we  tumbled  into 
the  sunken  road,  an  old  man  came  in  bearing  an  Enfield 


236  WOME^N  OF  the:  CONI^EIDIJRACY 

rifle  and  wearing  an  old  pot  hat  of  the  date  of  1857  or 
thereabouts.  With  a  gentle  courtesy  that  was  unusual 
in  war,  he  apologized  to  the  two  men  between  whom  he 
placed  himself,  saying:  "I  hope  I  don't  crowd  you,  but 
I  must  find  a  place  somewhere  from  which  I  can  shoot." 

At  that  moment  one  of  the  great  assaults  occurred. 
The  old  man  used  his  gun  like  an  expert.  He  wasted  no 
bullet.  He  took  aim  every  time  and  fired  only  when  he 
knew  his  aim  to  be  effective.    Yet  he  fired  rapidly. 

Tom  Booker,  who  stood  next  to  him,  said  as  the  ad- 
vancing column  was  swept  away :  "You  must  have  shot 
birds  on  the  wing  in  your  time." 

The  old  man  answered:  "I  did  up  to  twenty  years 
ago ;  but  then  I  sort  o'  lost  my  sight,  you  know,  and  my 
interest  in  shootin'." 

"Well,  you've  got  'em  both  back  again,"  called  out 
Billy  Goodwin,  from  down  the  line. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man.  "You  see  I  had  to.  It's 
this  way :  I  had  six  boys  and  six  gells.  When  the  war 
broke  out  I  thought  the  six  boys  could  do  my  family's 
share  o'  the  fightin'.  Well,  they  did  their  best,  but  they 
didn't  have  no  luck.  One  of  'em  was  killed  at  Manassas, 
two  others  in  a  cavalry  raid,  and  the  other  three  fell  in 
different  actions — 'long  the  road,  as  you  might  say.  We 
ain't  seemed  to  a  had  no  luck.  But  it's  just  come  to  this, 
that  if  the  family  is  to  be  represented,  the  old  man  must 
git  up  his  shootin'  agin,  or  else  one  o'  the  gells  would 
have  to  take  a  hand.    So  here  I  am." 

Just  then  the  third  advance  was  made.  A  tremendous 
column  of  heroic  fellows  was  hurled  upon  us,  only  to  be 
swept  away  as  its  predecessors  had  been.  Two  or  three 
minutes  did  the  work,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  the 
old  man  fell  backward,  and  Tom  Booker  caught  him  in 
his  arms. 

"You're  shot,"  he  said. 

"Yes.  The  family  don't  seem  to  have  no  luck.  If 
one  of  my  gells  comes  to  you,  you'll  give  her  a  fair  chance 
to  shoot  straight,  won't  you,  boys  ?" 


WOMi^N  OS*  THE  CONl^I^DDRACY  237 

BRAVE   WOMEN   AT   RESACA_,   GA. 
[By.   J.  L.    Underwood.] 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  E.  J.  Simmons,  of  Calhoun,  Ga., 
dated  June  7,  1896,  Rev.  Jno.  C.  Portis,  of  Union,  Miss., 
formerly  of  the  Eighteenth  Mississippi  Regiment,  and 
now  a  Congregational  Methodist  minister,  writes : 

"My  good  right  arm  lies  about  a  mile  south  of  Resaca, 
Ga.,  just  north  of  a  church  at  the  root  of  a  large  oak  or 
chestnut  tree.  It  was  put  in  a  board  box  and  buried  by 
a  comrade.  Hence  you  see  I  feel  an  interest  in  the  wild 
hills  of  Resaca.  I  was  a  private  in  Company  B,  Eighth 
Mississippi  Volunteer  Inf.,  and  was  wounded  in  right 
shoulder  and  throat  about  dark  in  a  charge  on  the  ene- 
my's works.  May  14,  1864,  on  the  side  of  a  hill  just  west 
of  the  village  on  the  north  side  of  the  river.  I  was  carried 
back  to  the  bluff  below  the  bridge,  where  about  three  or 
four  hirfidred  poor  fellows  were  lying  torn,  bleeding,  and 
some  dying.  After  a  time  I  crossed  the  bridge,  and,  faint 
and  sick,  I  was  trying  to  make  my  way  to  Cheatham's* 
Division  Hospital,  which  was  in  the  church.  A  man 
came  into  the  road  with  an  ox  wagon  loaded  in  part  with 
beds  which  appeared  to  be  very  white.  Some  one  called 
him  Motes  and  asked  him  about  his  family  ( Motes's  fam- 
ily), and  he  said  they  had  gone  on  to  Calhoun.  Mr. 
Motes  insisted  that  I  should  ride,  and  said  his  wife  would 
not  care  if  all  her  beds  were  dyed  with  rebel  blood.  He 
carried  me  to  the  old  church.  I  would  like  to  know  what 
became  of  Mr.  Motes ;  I  could  not  see  his  face.  The 
night  was  dark.  Sunday  morning,  May  15,  about  eight 
o'clock,  my  right  arm  was  amputated  at  the  shoulder 
joint.  Thirty-two  years  have  passed  since  then,  and 
strange  it  may  seem  that  a  boy  soldier,  that  few  thought 
could  live,  is  writing  this  reminiscence  of  those  two  days 
of  carnage.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  morning  of  that 
fateful  14th  of  May,  when  at  early  dawn  the  signal  guns 
told  us  in  tones  of  thunder  that  both  armies  were  ready 
for  the  work  of  death.  Bright  rose  the  sun,  tipping 
mountain  peak  with  blooming  rays  of  silver  and  bathing 
valley  and  woodland  in  a  flood  of  golden  light,  a  scene 


238  WOMEN  OE  THE)  CONFEDERACY 

never  to  be  witnessed  again  by  hundreds  of  the  boys  who 
wore  the  blue  and  the  gray.  In  the  streets  of  Resaca  that 
day  I  saw  enacted  a  deed  of  heroism  which  challenged  the 
admiration  of  all  who  witnessed  it.  A  wagon  occupied 
by  several  ladies  was  passing  along  north  of  the  river  and 
just  west  of  the  railroad,  when  a  Yankee  battery  opened 
fire  on  it  and,  until  it  had  passed  over  the  bridge,  poured 
a  storm  of  shells  around  it.  A  young  woman  stood  erect 
in  the  wagon  waving  her  hat,  which  was  dressed  with 
red  or  had  a  red  ribbon  or  plume  on  it,  seemingly  to  defy 
the  cowards  who  would  make  war  on  defenceless  women. 
I  felt  then,  as  I  do  to-day,  for  that  woman  a  man  could 
freely  die.  Many  a  rebel  boy  felt  as  I  did  that  day.  I 
was  taken  from  the  church  to  a  bush-arbor  on  the  west 
side  of  the  railroad,  where  I  expected  to  die.  A  middle- 
aged  woman  dressed  in  black  came  with  nourishment  and 
(God  forever  bless  her)  fed  me,  and  during  that  awful 
day  ministered  to  the  wants  of  the  wounded  and  dying. 
If  I  remember  correctly  she  came  often  to  me  with  food 
and  drink.  Who  she  was  I  may  never  know,  but  she  was 
a  noble  woman." 

The  fearlessness  of  the  Southern  women  under  cannon 
and  rifle  fire  mentioned  in  the  above  incident  was  ex- 
hibited time  and  again  during  the  war.  The  women 
seemed  to  have  their  souls  and  bodies  keyed  up  for  any 
and  all  emergencies.  There  may  be  something  of  an  ex- 
planation in  the  fact  that  they  belonged  to  a  race  of 
marksmen  and  expected  bullets  and  cannon  balls  to  hit 
what  they  were  aimed  to  hit,  and  as  they  didn't  think 
anybody  was  trying  to  kill  them,  they  apprehended  no 
danger. 


A  WOMAN  S  HAIR 

[Southern   Soldier  Stories,  pages  82-84.] 

About  10  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  sharpshooters 
began.  Our  captain  instantly  divided  us  into  two  squads, 
and  without  military  formalities  said :  "Now,  boys,  ride 
to  the  right  and  left  and  corner  'em." 


WOMEN  O?  THE  CONI^EDKRACY  239 

That  was  the  only  command  we  received,  but  we 
obeyed  it  with  a  will.  The  two  sharpshooting  citizens 
who  were  there  that  morning  escaped  on  good  horses,  but 
we  captured  the  pickets. 

Among  them  was  a  woman — a  Juno  in  appearance, 
with  a  wealth  of  raven  black  hair  twisted  carelessly  into 
a  loose  knot  under  the  jockey  cap  she  wore.  She  was 
mounted  on  a  superb  chestnut  mare,  and  she  knew  how 
to  ride.  She  might  easily  have  escaped,  and  at  one  time 
seemed  to  do  so,  but  at  the  critical  moment  she  seemed  to 
lose  her  head  and  so  fell  into  our  hands. 

When  we  brought  her  to  Charlie  Irving  she  was  all 
smiles  and  graciousness,  and  Charlie  was  all  blushes. 

"You'd  hang  me  to  a  tree,  if  I  were  a  man,  I  suppose," 
she  said.  "And  serve  me  right,  too.  As  I'm  only  a 
woman,  you'd  better  send  me  to  General  Stuart,  instead." 

This  seemed  so  obviously  the  right  way  out  of  it 
Charlie  ordered  Ham  Seay  and  me  to  escort  her  to 
Stuart's  headquarters,  which  were  under  a  tree  som« 
miles  in  the  rear. 

When  we  got  there  Stuart  seemed  to  recognize  the 
young  woman.  Or  perhaps  it  was  only  his  habitual  and 
constitutional  gallantry  that  made  him  come  forward 
with  every  manifestation  of  welcome,  and  himself  help 
her  off  her  horse,  taking  her  by  the  waist  for  that  pur- 
pose. 

Ham  Seay  and  I,  being  mere  privates,  were  ordered  to 
another  tree.  But  we  could  not  help  seeing  that  cordial 
relations  were  quickly  established  between  our  com- 
mander and  this  young  woman.  We  saw  her  presently 
take  down  her  magnificent  black  hair  and  remove  from  it 
some  papers.  They  were  not  "curl  papers,"  or  that  sort 
of  stuffing  which  women  call  "rats."  Stuart  was  a  very 
gallant  man,  and  he  received  the  papers  with  much 
fervor.  He  spread  them  out  carefully  on  the  ground,  and 
seemed  to  be  reading  what  was  written  or  drawn  upon 
them.  Then  he  talked  long  and  earnestly  with  the  young 
woman  and  seemed  to  be  coming  to  some  definite  sort  of 
understanding  with  her.  Then  she  dined  with  him  on 
some  fried  salt  pork  and  some  hopelessly  indigestible 


240  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

fried  paste.  Then  he  mounted  her  on  her  mare  again  and 
summoned  Ham  Seay  and  me. 

"Escort  this  young  lady  back  to  Captain  Irving,"  he 
said.  "Tell  him  to  send  her  to  the  Federal  lines  under 
flag  of  truce,  with  the  message  that  she  was  inadvertently 
captured  in  a  picket  charge,  and  that  as  General  Stuart 
does  not  make  war  on  women  and  children,  he  begs  to 
return  her  to  her  home  and  friends." 

We  did  all  this. 

The  next  day,  Stuart  with  a  strong  force  advanced  to 
Mason's  and  Munson's  mills.  From  there  we  could 
clearly  see  a  certain  house  in  Washington.  It  had  many 
windows,  and  each  had  a  dark  Holland  shade.  When  we 
stood  guard  we  were  ordered  to  observe  minutely  and 
report  accurately  the  slidings  up  and  down  of  those 
Holland  shades.  We  never  knew  what  three  shades  up, 
two  half  up,  and  five  down  might  signify.  But  we  had 
to  report  it,  nevertheless,  and  Stuart  seemed  from  that 
time  to  have  an  almost  preternatural  advance  perception 
of  the  enemy's  movements.  That  young  woman  certainly 
had  a  superb  shock  of  hair. 


A  BREACH  OE  ETIQUETTE 

[Eggleston,  in  Southern  Soldier  Stories,  pages  121-123.] 

Finally  we  went  near  to  Martinsburg,  and  came  upon 
a  farmhouse.  The  farm  gave  no  appearance  of  being 
a  large  one,  or  one  more  than  ordinarily  prosperous,  yet 
we  saw  through  the  open  door  a  dozen  or  fifteen  "farm 
hands"  eating  dinner,  all  of  them  in  their  shirt-sleeves. 
Stuart  rode  up,  with  a  few  of  us  at  his  back,  to  make 
inquiries,  and  we  dismounted.  Just  then  a  slip  of  a 
girl, — not  over  14,  I  should  say — accompanied  by  a  thick- 
set young  bull-dog,  with  an  abnormal  development  of 
teeth,  ran  up  to  meet  us. 

She  distinctly  and  unmistakably  "sicked"  that  dog 
upon  us.  But  as  the  beast  assailed  us,  the  young  girl 
ran  after  him  and  restrained  his  ardor  by  throwing  her 


WOME;n  01?  THE  CONI^EDERACY  24 1 

arms  around  his  neck.  As  she  did  so,  she  kept  repeat- 
ing in  a  low  but  very  insistent  tone  to  us :  "Make  'em  put 
their  coats  on!  Make  'em  put  their  coats  on!  Make 
'em  put  their  coats  on !" 

Stuart  was  a  pecuHarly  ready  person.  He  said  not 
one  word  to  the  young  girl  as  she  led  her  dog  away,  but 
with  a  word  or  two  he  directed  a  dozen  or  so  of  us  to 
follow  him  with  cocked  carbines  into  the  dining-room. 
There  he  said  to  the  "farm  hands:"  "Don't  you  know 
that  a  gentleman  never  dines  without  his  coat?  Aren't 
you  ashamed  of  yourselves?  And  ladies  present,  too! 
Get  up  and  put  on  your  coats,  every  man  jack  of  you,  or 
I'll  riddle  you  with  bullets  in  five  seconds." 

They  sprang  first  of  all  into  the  hallway,  where  they 
had  left  their  arms;  but  either  the  bull-dog  or  the  14- 
year-old  girl  had  taken  care  of  that.  The  arms  were 
gone.  Then  seeing  the  carbines  levelled,  they  made  a 
hasty  search  of  the  hiding-places  in  which  they  had  be- 
stowed their  coats.  A  minute  later  they  appeared  as 
fully  uniformed  but  helplessly  unarmed  Pennsylvania 
volunteers. 

They  were  prisoners  of  war  at  once,  without  even  an 
opportunity  to  finish  that  good  dinner.  As  we  left  the 
house  the  young  girl  came  up  to  Stuart  and  said :  "Don't 
say  anything  about  it,  but  the  dog  wouldn't  have  bit  you. 
He  knows  which  side  we're  on  in  this  war." 

As  we  rode  away  this  young  girl — she  of  the  bull- 
dog— cried  out:  "To  think  the  wretches  made  us  give 
'em  dinner;   and  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  too." 


lyOIvA  SANCHEZ  S  RIDE 

[Women  in  The  War.] 

During  the  war  for  Southern  independence  there  lived 

just  opposite  Palatka,  on  the  east  bank  of  the  St.  Johns 

River,  Florida,  a  Cuban  gentleman,  Mauritia  Sanchez  by 

name,  who  early  in  life  had  left  the  West  Indies  to  seek 

16 


242  WOMEN  OF*  the;  CONI^EDERACY 

a  home  in  the  State  of  Florida.  Many  years  had  passed 
since  then  and  Mr.  Sanchez  was  at  the  time  of  the  follow- 
ing incident  an  old  man,  infirm  and  in  wretched  health. 
The  family  consisted  of  an  invalid  wife,  one  son,  who 
was  in  the  service  of  the  Confederacy,  and  three  daugh- 
ters, Panchita,  Lola,  and  Eugenia. 

Suspicion  had  long  fastened  upon  Mr.  Sanchez  as  a 
spy  for  the  Confederates,  and  at  the  time  of  this  incident, 
the  old  man  had  been  torn  from  his  home  and  family  and 
was  a  prisoner  in  the  old  Spanish  Fort  San  Marcos  (now 
Fort  Marion),  at  St.  Augustine.  The  girls  occupied  the 
old  home  with  their  mother  and  were  entirely  unpro- 
tected. Many  times  at  night  their  house  was  surrounded 
by  white  and  negro  soldiers  expecting  to  surprise  them 
and  find  Confederates  about  the  place,  for  the  Yankees 
knew  some  one  was  giving  information,  but  thought  it 
was  Mr.  Sanchez.  The  Southern  soldiers  were  higher 
up  the  St.  Johns,  on  the  west  side.  It  was  usual  for  the 
Yankee  officers  to  visit  frequently  at  the  Sanchez  home, 
and  the  girls,  for  policy,  (and  information)  were  cordial 
in  their  reception  of  them,  and  thereby  gained  some  pro- 
tection from  the  thieving  soldiery. 

One  warm  summer's  night  three  Yankee  officers  came 
to  the  Sanchez  home  to  spend  the  evening.  After  a  short 
time  the  three  sisters  left  the  officers  and  went  to  the  din- 
ing room  to  prepare  supper.  The  soldiers,  thinking 
themselves  safe,  entered  into  the  discussion  of  a  plan  to 
surprise  the  Confederates  on  Sunday  morning  by  sending 
the  gunboats  up  the  river,  and  also  by  planning  that  a 
foraging  party  should  go  out  from  St.  Augustine. 

On  hearing  this  Lola  Sanchez  stopped  her  work  and 
listened.  After  hearing  of  the  road  the  foraging  party 
would  take  and  gaining  all  necessary  information,  she 
told  Panchita  to  entertain  them  until  she  returned. 
Stealing  softly  from  the  house,  she  sped  to  the  horse  lot, 
and  throwing  a  saddle  on  her  horse  rode  for  life  to  the 
ferry,  a  mile  distant ;  there  the  ferryman  took  her  horse, 
and  gave  her  a  boat.  She  rowed  herself  across  the  .St. 
Johns,  met  one  Confederate  picket,  who  knew  her  and 
gave  her  his  horse.     Out  into  the  night  through  the 


WOMEN  OP  The:  confederacy  243 

woods  she  rode  like  the  wind  to  Camp  Davis,  a  mile  and 
a  half  away.  Reaching  the  camp,  she  asked  for  Captain 
Dickinson,  (afterwards  General  Dickinson)  and  told  him 
the  Yankees  were  coming  up  the  river  Sunday  morning 
and  that  the  troop  from  St.  Augustine  would  go  out  for- 
aging in  a  southerly  direction.  Then  leaving  the  camp, 
Lola  Sanchez  rode  for  her  life  indeed.  She  knew  she 
must  not  be  missed  from  home.  Giving  the  picket  his 
horse,  she  recrossed  the  ferry,  then  mounting  her  waiting 
animal  she  struck  out  for  home.  Dismounting  some 
distance  from  the  house,  she  turned  her  horse  loose,  and 
reached  home  in  time  for  supper  and  pleasantly  enter- 
tained her  guests  until  a  late  hour. 

That  night  Captain  Dickinson  marched  his  men  to 
intercept  the  Yankees.  He  crossed  from  the  west  to  the 
east  side  and  surprised  them  on  Sunday.  A  severe  fight 
ensued.  The  Yankee  General  Chatfield  was  killed  and 
Colonel  Nobles  wounded  and  captured.  On  that  same 
Sunday  morning  the  Yankee  gunboats  went  up  the  St. 
Johns  to  surprise  the  Confederates.  They  were  very 
much  surprised  in  turn.  The  Confederates  were  ready 
for  them,  disabled  a  gunboat  and  captured  a  transport; 
also   many   prisoners   were  taken  by  the   Confederates. 

The  foraging  party  lost  all  their  wagons,  and  every- 
thing they  had  stolen,  and  again  many  prisoners  were 
taken,  and  Captain  Dickinson  sent  for  the  three  sisters  to 
be  at  the  ferry  (the  one  Lola  Sanchez  crossed)  to  see 
the  prisoners  and  wagons  that  had  been  taken. 

Time  and  again  this  daughter  of  the  Confederacy  aided 
and  abetted  the  Southern  cause.  Some  time  after  a  pon- 
toon was  captured,  and  renamed  ''The  Three  Sisters"  in 
compliment  to  these  brave  young  women.  The  pontoon 
was  coming  from  Picolata  to  Orange  Mills,  Mr.  San- 
chez still  languished  in  Fort  San  Marco,  however,  and 
Panchita  grieved  continuously  over  her  father's  unjust 
incarceration.  The  old  man  was  truly  innocent,  his 
daughters  were  the  informers,  but  he  did  not  know  this. 
Panchita  determined  to  obtain  his  release  if  possible. 
After  some  time  spent  in  applying,  she  got  a  pass  to  go 
through  the  Yankee  lines,   and  boarding  one  of  their 


244  WOME^N  Olf  the:  CONIfE;DE:RACY 

transports,  this  young  woman  went  alone  to  St.  Augus- 
tine, and  gained  her  father's  freedom,  taking  him  with 
her  back  to  the  old  homestead. 

There  is  the  "Emily  Geiger  Ride,"  and  "Lill  Servosse's 
Ride,"  but  none  more  daring  than  that  of  Lola  Sanchez, 
the  young  Floridian  of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  The 
U.  D.  C.  should  look  to  it  that  one  chapter  at  least  should 
be  Lola  Sanchez  Chapter, 

Lola  Sanchez  married  Emanuel  Lopez,  a  Confederate 
soldier  of  the  St.  Augustine  Blues;  Eugenia  married 
Albert  Rogers,  another  soldier  of  the  St.  Augustine 
Blues;  Panchita  is  the  widow  of  the  late  John  R.  Miot, 
of  Columbia,  S.  C.  Lola  Sanchez  died  about  seven  years 
ago.  May  the  memory  of  this  Southern  woman  never 
fade. 

These  facts  were  recently  related  to  me  by  Mrs.  Eu- 
genia Rogers,  of  St,  Augustine. 

EivIzab^th  W.  MuIvWngs. 


the;  REBKI.  SOCK 
A  TRUE   EPISODE  IN    SEWARD's   RAIDS   ON   THE  OLD   LADIES   OE    MARYLAND 

By  TenEli-a. 
[The  Gray  Jacket,  pages  510-513-] 

In  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of  war 

The  lyincolnite  was  dressed; 
High  beat  his  patriotic  heart 

Beneath  his  armoured  vest. 
His  maiden  sword  hung  by  his  side, 

His  pistols  both  were   right, 

His  coat  was  buttoned  tight. 
His  shining  spurs  were  on  his  heels; 
A  firm  resolve  sat  on  his  brow. 

For  he  to  danger  went. 
By  Seward's  self  that  day  he  was 

On  secret  service  sent. 
"Mount  and  away!"  he  sternly  cried 

Unto  the  gallant  band, 
Who  all  equipped  from  head  to  heel 

Awaited    his    command. 
"But  halt,  my  boys — before  we  go 

These  solemn  words  I'll  say, 
Lincoln   expects  that  every  man 

His  duty'll  do  to-day!" 
"We  will!    we  will!"  the  soldiers  cried, 

"The  President  shall  see 
That  we  will  only  run  away 

From  Jackson  or  from  Lee!" 
And  now  they're  off,  just  four  score  men, 

A  picked  and  chosen  troop. 
And  like  a  hawk  upon  a  dove 

On  Maryland  they  swoop. 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  245 

From  right  to  left,  from  house  to  house, 

The  little  army  rides. 
In  every  lady's  wardrobe  look 

To  see  that  there  she  hides; 
They  peep  in  closets,  trunks,  and  drawers, 

Examine  every  box; 
Not  rebel  soldiers  now  they  seek, 

But  rebel  soldiers'   socks  1 
But  all  in  vain — too  keen  for  them 

Were  those  dear  ladies  there, 
And  not  a  sock  or  flannel  shirt 

Was  taken  anywhere. 
The  day  wore  on  to  afternoon, 

That  warm  and  drowsy  hour. 
When  Nature's  self  doth  seem  to  feel 

A  touch  of  Morpheus'  power. 
A  farm-house  door  stood  open  wide. 

The  men  were  all  away, 
The  ladies  sleeping  in  their  rooms. 

The  children  at  their  play; 
The  house  dog  lay  upon  the  steps, 

But  never  raised  his  head, 
Though  cracking  on  the  gravel  walk 

He  heard  a  stranger's  tread. 
Old  grandma,  in  her  rocking  chair. 

Sat  knitting  in  the  hall. 
When  suddenly  upon  her  work 

A  shadow  seemed  to  fall. 
She  raised  her  eyes  and  there  she  saw 

Our  Fed'ral  hero  stand. 
His  little  cap  was  on  his  head; 

His  sword  was  in  his  hand; 
While  circling  round  and  round  the  house 

His  gallant  soldiers  ride 
To  guard  the  open  kitchen  door 

And  chicken  coop  beside. 
Slowly  the  dear  old  lady  rose 

And  tottering  forward   came. 
And  peering  dimly   through  her  "specks," 

Said,    "Honey,    what's    your    name?" 
Then  as  she  raised  her  withered  hand 

To  pat  his  sturdy  arm — 
"There's  no  one  here  but  grandmamma. 

And  she  won't  do  you  harm; 
Come,  take  a  seat  and  don't  be  scared; 

Put  up  your  sword,  my  child, 
I  would  not  hurt  you  for  the  world," 

She  gently  said  and  smiled. 
"Madam,   my  duty  must  be  done. 

And  I  am  firm  as  rock!" 
Then  pointing  to  her  work  he  said, 

"Is  that  a  rebel  sock!" 
"Yes,  honey,  I  am  getting  old. 

And  for  hard  work  ain't  fit. 
But  for  Confederate  soldiers  still 

I,  thank  the  Lord,  can  knit." 
"Madam,    your   work   is  contraband. 

And  Congress  confiscates 
This   rebel  sock,  which  I  now  seize. 

To  the  United  States." 
"Yes,  honey,  don't  be  scared,  for  I 

Will  give  it  up  to  you." 
Then  slowly  from  the  half  knit  sock 

The  dame  her  needles  drew. 
Broke  off  her  thread,  wound  up  her  ball 

And  stuck  her  needles  in. 
"Here,  take  it,  child,  and  I  to-night 

Another  will  begin!" 
The  soldier  next  his  loyal  heart 

The   dear-bought  trophy  laid. 
And  that  was  all  that   Seward  got 

By  this  "old  woman's  raid."  j 


CHAPTER  V 


THEIR  CAUSE) 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE)  TO      THEIR  CAUSE 

In  no  sense  does  the  author  offer  the  suggestions  in 
this  section  as  an  apology  for  the  course  of  Southern 
women  or  men  in  the  war  between  the  States.  They  are 
presented  simply  as  a  part  of  history,  showing  the  politi- 
cal principles  which  guided  and  moved  the  South  in  the 
momentous  struggle.  They  explain  the  lofty  zeal  and 
heroic  fortitude  of  the  Confederate  women.  They  can- 
not be  attributed  to  partisanship  or  sectional  bias  on  the 
part  of  the  author,  for  sufficient  quotations  are  herewith 
presented  from  well-known  Northern,  English,  and  Con- 
tinental public  men  to  show  that  if  there  is  an  extreme 
Southern  view  it  is  held  by  other  people  as  well  as  by  our 
own. 

Right  or  wrong,  each  Southern  man  in  the  field  and 
each  woman  at  home,  toiled  in  that  war  with  a  mens  sibi 
conscia  recti.  It  was  a  movement  of  the  people.  In  the 
ranks  of  the  army  were  found  hundreds  of  college  gradu- 
ates and  men  carrying  muskets  whose  property  was  val- 
ued at  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  at  home  the  rich 
and  the  poor  women  toiled  with  equal  zeal  for  the  cause 
so  dear  to  their  hearts. 


"when  this  crueI/  war  is  over 

Mrs.  W.  W.  Gordon,  of  Savannah,  the  wife  of  the 
brave  ex-Confederate  officer  who  was  commissioned 
brigadier  general  by  President  McKinley,  and  served 
with  distinguished  gallantry  in  the  Spanish  War,  had 
kindred  in  the  Federal  army,  which  under  Sherman  cap- 
tured Savannah.  As  the  troops  were  entering  the  city 
she  stood  with  her  children  watching  them  as.  they 
marched  under  the  windows  of  her  Southern  home.  Just 
then  the  splendid  brass  band  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  di- 


WOM^N  01?  Tlir:  CONt'E^DDRACY  ^4^7 

visions  began  to  play  the  old  familiar  air,  "When  this 
cruel  war  is  over."  Just  as  soon  as  the  notes  struck  the 
ear  of  her  little  daughter  this  enthusiastic  young  Confed- 
erate exclaimed,  "Mamma,  just  listen  to  the  Yankees. 
They  are  playing,  'When  this  cruel  war  is  over,'  and 
they  are  just  doing  it  themselves." 


NORTHERN  MEN  LEADERS  OE  DISUNION 

In  i860  it  was  plain  to  the  world  that  the  people  of  the 
North  were  determined  to  spurn  the  compact  of  union 
with  the  Southern  States  and  to  deny  to  those  States  all 
right  to  control  their  own  affairs.  Here  are  the  senti- 
ments of  the  Northern  leaders  : 

"There  is  a  higher  law  than  the  Constitution  which 
regulates  our  authority  over  the  domain.  Slavery  must 
be  abolished,  and  we  must  do  it." — Wni.  H.  Seward. 

"The  time  is  fast  approaching  when  the  cry  will  become 
too  overpowering  to  resist.  Rather  than  tolerate  na- 
tional slavery  as  it  now  exists,  let  the  Union  be  dissolved 
at  once,  and  then  the  sin  of  slavery  will  rest  where  it 
belongs." — Nczv  York  Tribune. 

"The  Union  is  a  lie.  The  American  Union  is  an  im- 
posture— a  covenant  with  death  and  an  agreement  with 
hell.  We  are  for  its  overthrow!  Up  with  the  flag  of 
disunion,  that  we  may  have  a  free  and  glorious  republic 
of  our  own." — Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison. 

"I  look  forward  to  the  day  when  there  shall  be  a  ser- 
vile insurrection  in  the  South;  when  the  black  man, 
armed  with  British  bayonets,  and  led  on  by  British  offi- 
cers, shall  assert  his  freedom  and  wage  a  war  of  extermi- 
nation against  his  master.  And,  though  we  may  not 
mock  at  their  calamity  nor  laugh  when  their  fear  cometh, 
yet  we  will  hail  it  as  the  dawn  of  a  political  millen- 
nium."— Joshua  Giddings. 

"In  the  alternative  being  presented  of  the  continuance 
of  slavery  or  a  dissolution  of  the  Union,  we  are  for  a 


248  wome;n  01''  the;  coni''e;di:racy 

dissolution,  and  we  care  not  how  quick  it  comes." — Rufus 
P.  Spaulding. 

"The  fugitive-slave  act  is  filled  with  horror;  we  are 
bound  to  disobey  this  act." — Charles  Sumner. 

"The  Advertiser  has  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  it 
does  not  hold  to  the  faithful  observance  of  the  fugitive- 
slave  law  of  1850." — Portland  Advertiser. 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  the  free  and  slave  States  ought 
to  be  separated.  *  *  *  ^\^q  Union  is  not  worth 
supporting  in  connection  with  the  South." — Horace 
Greeley. 

"The  times  demand  and  we  must  have  an  anti-slavery 
Constitution,  an  anti-slavery  Bible,  and  an  anti-slavery 
God." — Anson  P.  Burlingame. 

"There  is  merit  in  the  Republican  party.  It  is  this : 
It  is  the  first  sectional  party  ever  organized  in  this  coun- 
^j.y_  *  *  *  ji;  is  j^ot  national;  it  is  sectional.  It  is 
the  North  arrayed  against  the  South.  *  *  *  f[^Q 
first  crack  in  the  iceberg  is  visible;  you  will  yet  hear  it 
go  with  a  crack  through  the  center." — Wendell  Phillips. 

"The  cure  prescribed  for  slavery  by  Redpath  is  the  only 
infallible  remedy,  and  men  must  foment  insurrection 
among  the  slaves  in  order  to  cure  the  evils.  It  can  never 
be  done  by  concessions  and  compromises.  It  is  a  great 
evil,  and  must  be  extinguished  by  still  greater  ones.  It 
is  positive  and  imperious  in  its  approaches,  and  must  be 
overcome  with  equally  positive  forces.  You  must  com- 
mit an  assault  to  arrest  a  burglar,  and  slavery  is  not  ar- 
rested without  a  violation  of  law  and  the  cry  of  fire." — 
Independent  Democrat,  leading  Republican  paper  in  New 
Hampshire. 


TH^  UNION  vs.  A  UNION 
[J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

Early  in  the  war  a  son  of  the  Emerald  Isle,  but  not 
himself  green,  was  taken  prisoner  not  far  from  Manassas 
Junction.  In  a  word,  Pat  was  taking  a  quiet  nap  in  the 
shade;   and  was  aroused  from  his  slumber  by  a  Confed- 


WOMI^N  01^  THE  CONS^EDERACY  249 

erate  scouting  party.  He  wore  no  special  uniform  of 
either  army,  but  looked  more  like  a  spy  than  an  alligator 
and  on  this  was  arrested. 

"Who  are  you?"  "What  is  your  name?"  and  "Where 
are  you  from?"  were  the  first  questions  put  to  hirn  by 
the  armed  party. 

Pat  rubbed  his  eyes,  scratched  his  head,  and  answered : 
"Be  me  faith,  gintlemen,  them  is  ugly  questions  to 
answer,  anyhow;  and  before  I  answer  any  of  them,  I 
be  after  axing  yo,  by  yer  lave,  the  same  thing." 

"Well,"  said  the  leader,  "we  are  out  of  Scott's  army 
and  belong  to  Washington." 

"All  right,"  said  Pat.  "I  knowed  ye  was  a  gintleman, 
for  I  am  that  same.     Long  life  to  General  Scott." 

"Ah  ha!"  replied  the  scout.     "Now  you  rascal,  you 
are  our  prisoner,"  and  seized  him  by  the  shoulder. 
"How  is  that,"  inquired  Pat,  "are  we  not  friends?" 
"No,"  was  the  answer ;  "we  belong  to  General  Beaure- 
gard's army." 

"Then  ye  tould  me  a  lie,  me  boys,  and  thinking  it 
might  be  so,  I  told  you  another.  An'  now  tell  me  the 
truth,  an'  I'll  tell  you  the  truth  too." 

"Well,  we  belong  to  the  State  of  South  Carolina." 
"So  do  I,"  promptly  responded  Pat,  "and  to  all  the 
other  States  uv  the  country,  too,  and  there  I  am  thinking, 
I  hate  the  whole  uv  ye.  Do  ye  think  I  would  come  all 
the  way  from  Ireland  to  belong  to  one  State  when  I  have 
a  right  to  belong  to  the  whole  of  'em?" 

This  logic  was  rather  a  stumper;  but  they  took  him 
up,  as  before  said,  and  carried  him  for  further  examina- 
tion. 

This  Irishman's  unionism  is  a  fair  sample  of  what 
sometimes  passes  in  this  country  as  broad  patriotism, 
"We  don't  believe  in  so  much  State  and  State's  right. 
We  want  a  nation  and  we  want  it  spelt  with  a  big  N." 
This  is  the  merest  twaddle.  From  the  very  nature  of 
the  formation  of  our  government  there  can  be  no  or- 
ganized Nation.  Alexander  Hamilton  wrote,  "The  State 
governments  are  essentially  necessary  to  the  form  and 
spirit  of  the  general  system.     *     *     *     They  can  never 


250  WOMEN  01?  the:  CONE':eDE;RACY 

lose  their  powers  till  the  whole  of  America  are  robbed 
of  their  liberties."  It  is  a  Union  of  States  and  can  be 
made  nothing  else.  Bancroft,  the  great  historian,  says : 
"But  for  Staterights  the  Union  would  perish  from  the 
paralysis  of  its  limbs.  The  States,  as  they  gave  life  to 
the  Union,  are  necessary  to  the  continuance  of  that  life." 

Madison  wrote  as  follows :  "The  assent  and  ratification 
of  the  people,  not  as  individuals  composing  the  entire  na- 
tion, but  as  composing  the  distinct  and  independent 
States  to  which  they  belong,  are  the  sources  of  the  Consti- 
tution. It  is  therefore  not  a  National  but  a  Federal  com- 
pact." 

The  Irishman  could  only  belong  to  the  "whole  of  'em" 
by  belonging  to  one  of  them.  No  man  can  love  all  the 
other  States  without  loving  his  own  State.  A  Swiss 
loves  Schwyz  or  Unterwalden  or  some  other  canton 
before  he  loves  the  Confederation  of  Cantons.  The  loyal 
Scotchmen  love  Scotland  before  they  love  the  British  Em- 
pire. The  Union  man  loves  the  Union  through  his  im- 
mediate part  of  Union.  Daniel  Webster  loved  the 
Union,  but  his  speeches  show  how  he  loved  Massachu- 
setts first.  Calhoun  loved  the  Union,  but  he  loved  it  as 
a  Federal  Union  with  his  beloved  Carolina.  Many  of 
the  best  people  of  the  North  loved  their  several  States 
and  in  loyalty  to  them  took  sides  against  the  South. 

The  Southern  people,  Whigs  and  Democrats,  were  de- 
voted to  the  Union  of  the  fathers  as  long  as  it  was  a 
reality.  But  as  soon  as  they  realized  that  it  had  become 
only  a  confederation  of  the  Northern  majority  States, 
with  the  protecting  features  of  the  old  Constitution  di- 
rectly discarded,  the  love  for  their  own  States  led  them 
heart  and  soul  into  the  Confederate  cause.  Our  Irish- 
man might  be  satisfied  with  A  Union,  but  nothing  but 
THE  Union  of  the  fathers  could  satisfy  Southern  men. 
They  loved  the  definite  Union  of  1789;  they  fought  the 
indefinite  Union  of  1861.  The  former  was  a  union  on 
a  Constitution  without  a  flag;  the  latter  was  a  mere  sen- 
timental union  under  a  flag  without  a  Constitution.  The 
Constitution  had  been  thrown  away. 

The  writer's  father,  a  plain  old  farmer-merchant  of 


wome;n  01^  the;  conpeideracy  251 

Alabama,  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  staunchest  Southern 
Union  man.  A  Whig  all  his  life,  he  almost  adored 
Henry  Clay  and  idolized  the  Union.  The  great  old  Union 
paper,  the  National  Intelligencer,  of  Washington  City, 
was  his  political  Bible,  and  he  made  it  follow  his  son  all 
through  school  and  college.  Like  all  other  Whigs,  he 
believed  in  the  right  of  secession,  but  did  not  think 
the  time  had  come  for  such  a  step.  He  opposed 
with  all  his  might  the  secession  of  Alabama.  But  when 
it  was  an  accomplished  fact,  he  wrote  sadly  to  his  son, 
who  was  then  a  student  in  a  foreign  land : 

Alabama  has  seceded.  She  has  the  right  to  do  so,  but  I  didn't 
want  her  to  exercise  it.  I  belong  to  my  State,  and  I  secede  with 
her.  And  I  know  the  other  States  have  no  right  to  coerce  her. 
My  son,  your  old  father  is  Hke  a  Tennessee  hog,  he  can  be  tolled, 
but  he  can't  be  driven. 

Savoyard  tells  us  truly  that  no  State  embraced  seces- 
sion with  more  reluctance  than  North  Carolina,  and  yet 
no  State  supported  the  Southern  cause  with  more  heroism 
or  fortitude.  When  the  news  flashed  over  the  wires  that 
President  Lincoln  had  issued  a  call  for  volunteers  to 
coerce  the  sovereign  Southern  States,  Zebulon  B.  Vance 
was  addressing  an  immense  audience,  pleading  for  the 
Union  and  opposing  the  Confederacy.  His  hand  was 
raised  aloft  in  appealing  gesture  when  the  fatal  tidings 
came,  and  in  relating  the  incident  to  a  New  England 
audience  a  quarter  of  a  century  later,  he  said : 

When  my  hand  came  down  from  that  impassioned  gesticulation 
it  fell  slowly  and  sadly  by  the  side  of  a  secessionist.  I  immediately, 
with  altered  voice  and  manner,  called  upon  the  assembled  multitude 
to  volunteer,  not  to  fight  against  but  for  South  Carolina.  If  war 
must  come,  I  preferred  to  be  with  my  own  people.  If  we  had  to 
shed  blood  I  preferred  to  shed  Northern  rather  than  Southern 
blood.  ,  ,1    ',4i<.  feliit?' 

North  Carolina  took  her  favorite  son  at  his  word, 
turned  secessionist  with  him,  and  volunteered  for  the 
conflict, 

Robert  E.  Lee  felt  in  Virginia  just  like  Zeb  Vance  felt 
in  North  Carolina.  The  women  of  the  South  were  the 
women  of  Lee  and  Vance  and  Alex.  Stephens  and  Judah 


252  WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY 

P.  Benjamin,  Charles  J.  Jenkins  and  Ben  Hill.  They 
loved  the  Union,  but  when  it  was  gone,  they,  with  their 
States,  opposed  what,  to  them,  was  only  a  Union  of  in- 
vading, coercing  States. 

"We   were    not   the   first   to   break   the   peace 

That  blessed  our  happy  land; 
We  loved  the  quiet  calm  and  ease, 

Too  well  to  raise  a  hand. 
Till  fierce  oppression  stronger  grew. 

And  bitter  were  your  sneers. 
Then  to  our  land  we  must  be  true, 

Or  show  a  coward's  fears! 
We  loved  our  banner  while  it  waved 

An  emblem  of  our  Union. 
The  fiercest  dangers  we  had  braved 

To   guard  that  sweet  communion. 
But  when  it  proved  that  "stripes"  alone 

Were  for  our  Sunny  South, 
And  all  the  "stars"  in  triumph  shone 

Above  the  chilly  North, 
Then,  not  till  then,  our  voices  rose 

In  one  tumultuous  wave: 
'We   will   the    tyranny    oppose. 

Or  find  a  bloody  grave.'  " 

It  was  Southern  devotion  to  the  Union  which  led  so 
many  men  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  into  the  Federal 
army.  It  was  the  same  traditional  love  for  the  Union 
of  the  fathers  that  held  back  Virginia  and  the  other 
border  States  from  secession  too  long.  It  led  them  to 
make  the  mistake  of  the  crisis.  The  writer,  like  nearly 
all  the  Southern  men  of  his  ultra  Unionism,  at  the  time 
thought  South  Carolina  made  the  mistake  of  too  much 
haste  in  her  secession.  He  does  not  think  so  now.  He 
has  not  thought  so  since  calmly  and  thoroughly  studying 
the  history  of  those  times. 

The  new  party  in  the  North  was  in  a  triumphant  ma- 
jority and  was  determined  to  deprive  the  minority  States 
of  the  South  of  their  share  in  the  government.  Delay 
on  the  part  of  Southern  border  States  did  no  good.  It 
did  harm.  It  misled  the  Northern  people  as  to  the  true 
feeling  in  Virginia  and  the  other  border  States.  Had 
they  all  seceded  on  the  same  day  with  South  Carolina 
there  would  have  been  no  war. 

Now  that  the  Northern  people,  through  the  broad, 
patriotic  administrations  of  Cleveland,  McKinley  and 
Roosevelt,  have  restored  the  Union,  and  Florida  is  again 
a  coequal  State  with  New  York,  and  Texans  once  more 


W0ME;N  01?  THE  CONFEDERACY  253 

fellow-citizens  with  Pennsylvanians,  what  section  shows 
more  loyalty  to  the  Union  and  the  common  country  than 
the  South  ? 

Our  patriot  mothers  and  grandmothers  of  i860  loved 
the  Union.  Those  who  yet  survive,  and  their  children, 
love  the  Union  in  1905.  No  State  is  under  the  ban  now. 
The  captured  battle  flags  of  Confederate  States  have  been 
restored  to  the  States  by  a  Republican  Congress.  The 
Federal  government  volunteers  to  take  care  of  Confeder- 
ate soldiers'  graves.  President,  and  Congress  and  Army 
and  Navy  follow  General  Wheeler's  cofiin  to  an  honored 
grave.  A  Republican  President  publicly  avows  his  at- 
tachment to  Confederate  veterans  and  shows  his  faith  by 
his  appointments.  Thank  God,  our  Union  to-day  is 
again  the  Union  of  equal  States. 


THE    NORTHERN   STATES   SECEDE    EROM    THE   UNION 
[By  J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

The  denial  of  the  equal  rights  of  the  Southern  States  in 
the  public  territorial  domain,  and  the  nullification  by  the 
Northern  States  of  the  acts  of  Congress  and  the  decisions 
of  the  Supreme  Court  on  territorial  questions,  and  the 
formation  and  triumph  of  a  party  pledged  to  hostility  to 
the  South,  were  not  the  only  considerations  that  con- 
vinced the  Southern  States  that  their  only  honorable 
course  lay  in  secession.  The  compact  of  the  written  Con- 
stitution was  the  only  Union  that  had  existed.  A  breach 
or  repudiation  of  that  compact  was  a  breach  of  the  Union 
It  was  secession  without  its  name. 

In  1850,  after  a  violent  sectional  agitation,  which 
shook  the  country,  over  the  admission  of  California  as  a 
free  State,  a  compromise  measure,  proposed  by  Mr.  Clay 
and  advocated  by  Webster  and  Calhoun,  was  adopted  by 
Congress.  It  was  known  as  the  "omnibus  bill."  It  pro- 
vided, among  other  things,  that  California  should  be  a 
free  State;  that  the  slave  trade  should  be  abolished  in 
the  District  of  Columbia,  and  that  slaves  escaping  from 


254  WOMIJN  OF*  THE)  CONI^DDKRACY 

their  owners,  from  one  State  into  another,  could  be  ar- 
rested anywhere  and  returned  to  their  owners.  Article 
four,  section  two  of  the  Federal  Constitution  makes  this 
provision  in  the  plainest  of  terms.  It  was  similar  to  the 
New  England  Fugitive  Slave  law  of  1643  enacted  by- 
Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  Plymouth  and  New  Haven. 
Mr.  Webster  in  his  great  speech  in  Faneuil  Hall  in  Bos- 
ton, in  defense  of  his  vote  for  the  "omnibus  bill,"  read 
the  words  of  the  Constitution  and  showed  that  the  fugi- 
tive slave  section  of  the  omnibus  bill  was  almost  a  literal 
reiteration  of  the  constitutional  provision. 

The  majority  of  the  Northern  States  repudiated  this 
feature  of  the  act  of  Congress  and  declared  that  it  should 
not  be  enforced.  Here  was  the  boldest  nullification,  the 
most  direct  breaking  up  of  the  old  Union.  Here  was  the 
arch  rebellion  of  the  century.  The  question  was  not 
what  should  be  done  with  the  fugitive  slaves,  but  whether 
the  Northern  States  would  do  what,  in  the  Con- 
stitution, they  had  agreed  to  do.  The  South  waited  for 
the  Northern  States  to  revoke  such  a  flagrant  disregard 
of  their  rights  under  the  Constitution  and  such  a  bold  re- 
pudiation of  the  original  terms  of  Union.  Patriotic  little 
Rhode  Island  did  rescind  her  action  in  the  matter,  but 
she  was  alone.  Most  of  the  other  States  had  become  des- 
perate in  their  hostility  to  the  South  and,  when  the  South, 
seeing  all  hope  of  justice,  all  vestige  of  the  old  Union,  all 
prospect  of  peace,  hopelessly  gone,  resorted  to  quiet, 
peaceable  withdrawal  from  these  domineering  States, 
the  resolution  was  formed  and  carried  out  by  the  party 
in  power,  to  subjugate  the  Southern  States  to  the  will  of 
the  majority  States,  and  keep  them  in  what  was  called  the 
Union  against  their  will. 

The  South  in  seceding  made  no  threat,  and  contem- 
plated no  attempt  to  invade  a  Northern  State  in  pursuit 
of  slaves,  but  simply  sought  to  sever  all  connection  with 
the  States  and  people  who  were  so  determined  to  ignore 
her  rights,  and  who  nullified  their  own  plighted  terms  of 
union.  She  did  not  secede  in  the  interest  of  slavery  nor 
for  the  purpose  of  war.  The  Southern  States  seceded 
to   take   care   of    the    fragments    of   a   broken   Union. 


WOME^N  OE"  the:  CONI^EIDKRACY  255 

Slavery,  it  is  true,  was  the  occasion  of  the  rupture. 
Peaceable  secession  on  the  one  hand  and  coercion  on  the 
other  was  the  issue  of  the  war.  Emancipation  was 
adopted  as  a  war  measure  two  years  later  by  the  Northern 
administration  and  finally  consummated  in  1865  as  a 
punitive  measure  to  further  crush  the  conquered  South, 
Such  was  the  public  opinion  at  the  time  of  the  fall  of  Fort 
Sumter  that  not  a  regiment  could  have  been  raised  at  the 
North  to  invade  Virginia  if  it  had  been  distinctly  called 
out  for  the  purpose  of  setting  the  negroes  free.  Fanatics 
by  the  thousands  made  a  demigod  of  the  murderous  John 
Brown,  but  it  was  not  fanatics  who  were  in  control  at 
Washington.  It  was  the  politicians,  not  working  from 
humanitarian  sentiment,  true  or  false,  but  impelled  by  a 
determination  to  cripple  the  South  and  break  up  her  con- 
trolling influence  in  national  politics, — a  preeminence 
which  had  existed  from  the  first  days  of  the  government. 
The  politicians  shrewdly  employed  the  anti-slavery  ex- 
citement to  gain  power  for  themselves  and  especially  to 
aggravate  the  South  into  secession,  and  then,  smothering 
every  whisper  of  war  for  the  freedom  of  the  negroes,  they 
raised  the  rallying  cry  of  ''Save  the  Union"  and  mar- 
shalled the  Northern  hosts  for  subjugation.  President 
Davis  justly  said  to  a  self-constituted  umpire  visiting  him 
in  Richmond,  "We  are  not  fighting  for  slavery;  we  are 
fighting  for  independence.  The  war  will  go  on  unless 
you  acknowledge  our  right  to  self-government." 


E're;nzie;d  E'inance  and  the  war  os*  i86i 

[By  J.  Iy.  Underwood.] 

Was  the  war  between  the  States  in  1861  a  war  in 
behalf  of  slavery  on  the  one  side  and  freedom  on  the 
other  ?  Not  at  all.  After  all  the  noisy  and  fanatical  agi- 
tation on  the  subject,  only  a  small  minority  of  the  North- 
ern people  had  expressed  any  desire  to  have  the  negroes 
of  the  South  emancipated  at  that  time,  and  no  State  nor 
people  of  the  South  had  said  that  slavery  should  be  per- 


256  WOM:eN  O^  The:  CONl'I^DDRACY 

petual.  All  the  parties  which  in  i860  cast  any  electoral 
votes  distinctly  disavowed  any  intention  to  interfere  with 
slavery  where  it  existed.  This  was  the  declaration  even 
of  the  Republican  party  which  was  triumphant  and  was 
now  in  power.  Mr.  Lincoln,  the  President-elect,  repeat- 
edly declared  that  slavery  was  not  to  be  disturbed  in  the 
States,  although  he  said  the  country  could  not  remain 
"half  slave  and  half  free."  Here,  then,  the  North  and 
the  South  were  thoroughly  agreed  that  slavery  within 
the  States  should  continue  undisturbed.  As  to  emanci- 
pation, both  sections  of  the  country  and  all  parties  ex- 
cept the  ultra-Abolitionists  were  pro-slavery.  The  Aboli- 
tionists admitted  that  under  the  Federal  Constitution 
there  could  be  no  power  in  the  national  government  to 
free  the  slaves.  They  cursed  and  burned  the  Constitu- 
tion as  "a  compact  with  the  devil  and  a  league  with  hell," 
and  defiantly  repudiated  all  laws  which  carried  out  its 
provisions.  Under  the  plea  of  what  they  called  "higher 
law,"  they  defied  law.  They  were  really  anarchists. 
The  Free  Soil  party,  which  had  assumed  the  name  of 
Republican  for  party  purposes,  secretly  encouraged  the 
Abolitionists  in  their  mad  crusade  and  welcomed  their 
votes,  but  persistently  disavowed  their  aims.  All  ra- 
tional men  knew  that  the  time  had  not  come  to  turn  loose 
millions  of  half-civilized  Africans  in  this  country;  while 
many.  North  and  South,  deplored  the  existence  of  slavery 
and  would  not  advocate  it  in  the  abstract,  yet  they  be- 
lieved that  emancipation  was  not  best  for  the  negro  and 
would  be  accompanied  by  tremendous  peril  to  the  white 
people.  The  truth  is  that  the  Abolitionists  of  the  North 
kept  up  such  a  blatant  and  fanatical  agitation  against  the 
South  that  it  was  out  of  the  question,  in  the  excitement  of 
the  times,  for  conservative  men,  North  or  South,  to  think 
or  speak  of  such  an  alternative  as  the  immediate  freedom 
of  the  negroes. 

The  Republican  party,  now  the  dominant  party,  and  its 
leader,  Mr.  Lincoln,  stood  against  the  immediate  free- 
dom of  the  slaves.  But  this  party  had  come  into  power 
on  two  ground  principles  which  made  its  triumph  a  di- 


woM^N  01^  THE  con^e;de;racy  257 

rect  attack  on  the  rights  and  interests  of  the  Southern 
States  in  the  Territories. 

It  gloried  in  its  free-soil  doctrine,  which  was  a  declara- 
tion that  the  Southern  States  should  no  longer  enjoy 
their  share  in  the  Territories  of  the  government.  It  never 
mounted  the  steed  of  abolitionism  until  1862  when  the 
emancipation  of  the  slaves  was  adopted  as  a  war  measure, 
and  was  so  declared  by  Mr.  Lincoln  himself.  In  defiance 
of  the  decisions  of  the  Supreme  Court,  the  triumphant 
party  held  that  Congress  should  not  allow  the  Southern 
people  the  right  to  take  their  slave  property,  although 
distinctly  recognized  as  property  by  the  Constitution,  into 
the  Territories.  The  Northern  legislatures  deliberately 
defied  the  Supreme  Court  and  its  people  denounced  it 
and  reiterated  their  free  soil  demand.  Of  course  this 
was  a  direct  insult  to  the  South  and  a  public  outlawry  of 
the  South  that  no  self-respecting  people  ought  to  submit 
to.  The  Territories  were  common  property  to  all  the 
States.  The  South  held  that  while  they  were  Territories 
the  Southern  people  had  as  much  right  to  enter  and  en- 
joy them  as  the  people  of  the  North,  but  the  South  was 
always  willing  that  the  people  of  the  Territory, 
in  organizing  a  State  government,  should  decide 
for  themselves  as  a  State  whether  it  should  be 
admitted  as  a  slave  or  free  State.  The  new 
party  declared  that  under  no  circumstances  should 
another  slave  State  be  admitted.  The  territorial  de- 
mands of  the  new  party  had  been  endorsed  by  the 
formal  acts  of  a  majority  of  Northern  States  in  their 
legislatures.  The  catch-word  of  the  new  party  was  "no 
more  extension  of  slavery."  The  South  had  never 
brought  a  slave  into  the  country,  and  never  did  propose 
to  add  another  slave  to  it,  but  its  rights  in  the  common 
property  of  the  Union  it  could  not  surrender  to  the  dicta- 
tion of  the  more  numerous  and  populous  Northern  States. 

Then  what?  Declare  war?  No.  Simply  fall  back 
on  the  right  of  original  sovereignty,  on  their  several  Con- 
stitutional rights,  as  the  people  of  New  England,  when 
they  were  in  the  minority,  had  threatened  to  do,  and 
withdraw  from  the  Union  with  States  who  declared 
17 


258  woM:eN  OF'  The:  conS'eJdeiracy 

so  distinctly  a  purpose  not  to  abide  by  the  terms  of 
Union.  Then  came  secession,  the  only  peaceable  remedy. 
In  it  the  South  made  no  claim  on  territorial  or  other 
property.  In  fact,  it  was  a  voluntary  surrender  of  every- 
thing not  on  its  own  soil  to  the  remaining  States.  It  was 
old  Abraham's  alternative  to  Lot.  "Let  there  be  no 
strife,  I  pray  thee,  between  me  and  thee,  and  between  my 
herdsmen  and  thy  herdsmen,  for  we  be  brethren.  Is  not 
the  whole  land  before  thee?  Separate  thyself,  I  pray 
thee,  from  me ;  If  thou  wilt  take  the  left  hand,  then  I  will 
go  to  the  right ;  or  if  thou  depart  to  the  right  hand,  then 
I  will  go  to  the  left."  Then  why  should  there  be  war? 
Indeed,  why? 

So  natural  and  just  was  the  step  of  secession  that  the 
more  enlightened  and  conscientious  Abolitionists  con- 
ceded the  right  of  South  Carolina  to  withdraw  from  the 
Union.  Horace  Greeley,  the  powerful  editor  of  the 
great  Abolition  organ,  the  New  York  Tribune,  boldly 
protested  against  any  interference  with  her  departure. 
Wendell  Phillips,  the  great  lawyer  and  Abolition  orator 
of  Boston,  said  in  a  public  speech :  "Deck  her  brow  with 
flowers,  pave  her  way  with  gold,  and  let  her  go."  But 
Greeley  and  Phillips  were  not  the  politicians  nor  the  party 
in  control  of  the  country.  We  have  shown  how  the 
Free  Soil  aim  of  the  triumphant  party  led  the  Northern 
States  to  adopt  such  a  course  as  really  to  drive  the  South- 
ern States  into  secession.  What  was  the  main  spring  of 
the  Free  Soil  crusade?  This  brings  us  to  tell  in  one 
word  what  brought  on  the  war.  What  was  the  ground 
issue  which  held  the  Northern  States  so  desperately  on 
their  crusade  against  the  South?  It  was  the  "tariff." 
New  England  ideas  dominated  the  thought  of  the  North 
and  Northwest,  and  it  was  always  a  ruling  New  England 
idea  to  get  all  money  possible  from  the  government. 
New  England  never  lost  sight  of  business,  and  especially 
her  own  business  interests.  It  was  only  by  Virginia's 
surrender  of  her  vast  territories  that  New  England  could 
be  brought  into  the  Union  and  it  took  subsidies,  appro- 
priations for  internal  improvement,  and  fishing  and  tariff 
bounties  to  keep  her  in  it. 


WOMKN  01?  THE  CONEEDDRACY  259 

Very  soon  she  set  up  a  persistent  demand  for  high  du- 
ties on  imports  to  assist  in  building  up  her  increasing 
manufactures.     The  moderate  protective  tariffs  of   the 
twenties,  the  tariff  of  Henry  Clay,  did  not  satisfy  her. 
Her  cry  up  to  the  final  passage  of  the  trust-breeding 
Dingley  tariff  bill  of  our  day  has  been  that  of  the  horse 
leech,  "Give!    give!"     The  Southern  States  were  agri- 
cultural and  the  prevailing  doctrine  as  to  tariff  duties  was 
a  "tariff  for  revenue  only."     The  old  Southern  Whigs, 
like  Clay,  only  favored  a  moderate  protective  tariff  as  a 
compromise  sop  to  New  England  in  behalf  of  her  infant 
industries.     But  New  England  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
tariff  of  the  twenties.     A  little  taste  of  incidental  protec- 
tion had  only  increased  her  greed.     In  the  thirties  she 
demanded  more.     The  tariff  of  1832  was  enacted  and 
proved  such  a  heavy  tax  on  the  consumers  for  the  benefit 
of  the  manufacturers  that  South  Carolina  took  the  bold 
stand  of  nullification  against  it.    By  the  combined  efforts 
of  Clay  and  Calhoun  a  compromise  was  effected  and  the* 
tariff  modified  and  the  country  saved.     In  1846  the  mod- 
erate Walker  tariff,  the  "free-trade  tariff,"  was  adopted 
and  under  it  the  people  of  all  classes  and  all  sections  en- 
joyed more  general  prosperity  up  to  186 1  than  the  coun- 
try has  ever  before  or  since  seen. 

But  New  England  "frenzied  finance"  was  at  work. 
The  taste  for  public  pap  had  grown  by  what  it  fed  on. 
The  "almighty  dollar"  idea  in  politics  was  sweeping  the 
North.  The  auri  sacra  fames  had  formed  a  league  with 
a  fanatical  sectional  party.  The  seed  sowing  was  over; 
the  harvest  of  financial  politics  had  come.  New  England 
must  have  a  higher  tariff  and  votes  from  agricultural 
States  meant  more  anti-tariff  votes  and  the  tariff  ad- 
vocates decreed  that  there  should  be  no  slave  States  carved 
out  of  the  Territories.  To  secure  this  the  Southern 
people  with  their  property  must  be  excluded  from  the 
occupancy  of  the  Territorial  soil.  Frenzied  finance 
triumphed,  and  in  the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  the  North 
declared  the  national  territory  forbidden  ground  to  the 
South.  Free  soil  exclusion  from  their  property  was 
openly  flaunted  in  the  face  of  the  slave  States. 


26o  WOMIJN  OF'  THE)  CONlfi;DE;RACY 

What  could  the  Southern  States  do  under  such  an  in- 
sulting ultimatum  from  the  triumphant  North?  What 
did  they  do  ?  Why,  they  simply  fell  back  on  their  original 
right  of  State  sovereignty  and,  as  the  North  had  already 
broken  the  Union,  peaceably  seceded  from  it. 

Then  why  not,  as  Greeley  and  Phillips  and  thousands 
of  Northern  patriots  urged,  why  not  let  these  States  go? 
Frenzied  Finance  replied  in  the  words  of  Mr,  Lincoln, 
"If  we  let  the  South  go,  where  will  we  get  our  revenues  ?" 
There  it  is.  They  were  needed  to  furnish  their  cotton 
and  their  trade  to  support  the  North.  It  was  the  frenzied 
Pharoah  of  finance  that  refused  to  let  tribute-paying, 
brick-making  Israel  go.     Hence  the  war  of  subjugation. 

It  is  a  grotesque  and  sad  bit  of  history  that  while 
patriots  like  Crittenden,  of  Kentucky,  Bayard,  of  Dela- 
ware, Black,  of  Pennsylvania  and  Seymour,  of  New 
York,  were  anxiously  trying  to  avert  war  and  save  the  old 
Union,  while  the  whole  world  was  watching  with  bated 
breath  the  storm  gathering  around  Fort  Sumter,  the 
party  of  frenzied  finance,  now  in  control  of  Congress, 
defiantly  discarded  all  propositions  of  peace  compromise 
and  concentrated  all  its  mighty  energies  on  the  passage 
of  its  darling  Morrill  Tariff  Bill.  The  Morrill  tariff 
bill  was  enacted  April  2,  1861.  Fort  Sumter  fell  April 
14,  1861.  There  is  the  record  of  cold-blood-money  wor- 
ship. It  was  not  Nero  "fiddling  while  Rome  was  burn- 
ing" but  it  was  the  legislators  of  the  great  American 
Republic  fiddling  on  a  scheme  for  the  financial  gain  of 
private  business  while  the  glorious  Union  that  we  loved 
and  our  fathers  loved  was  falling  to  pieces !  The  laborer's 
groans,  the  widow's  sobs,  the  roar  of  cannon  and  the 
crash  of  States  could  not  drown  the  mad  New  England 
cry  for  private  subsidy  from  the  public  treasury. 


the;  right  op  skceission 

[In   Southern   Historical   Papers,   Volume   31,   pages   87-88.] 

It  may  not  be  amiss,  however,  to  call  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  North  already  admits  that  the  people  of  the 


WOM^N  01^  TH^  CONI^DDDRACY  26 1 

South  were  honest  in  their  contentions,  and  that  they  at 
least  thought  they  were  right.  Furthermore,  it  is  even 
conceded  that  the  South  was  not  without  great  support 
for  its  contentions  from  legal,  moral  and  historical  points 
of  view.  For  instance.  Professor  Goldwin,  of  Canada, 
an  Englishman,  a  distinguished  historian,  resident  of 
and  sympathizing  with  the  North  during  the  civil  war, 
recently  said : 

Few  who  have  looked  into  the  history  can  doubt  that  the  Union 
originally  was,  and  was  generally  taken  by  the  parties  to  it  to  be,  a 
compact ;  dissoluble,  perhaps  most  of  them  would  have  said,  at 
pleasure,  dissoluble  certainly  on  breach  of  the  articles  of  Union. 

To  the  same  effect,  but  in  even  stronger  terms,  are  the 
words  of  Mr.  Henry  Cabot  Lodge,  now  a  Senator  from 
Massachusetts,  who  said  in  one  of  his  historic  works : 

When  the  Constitution  was  adopted  by  the  votes  of  States  at 
Philadelphia,  and  accepted  by  the  votes  of  States  in  popular  con- 
ventions, it  is  safe  to  say  that  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  country 
from  Washington  and  Hamilton  on  the  one  side  to  George  Clinton 
and  George  Mason  on  the  other,  who  regarded  the  new  system  Ss 
anything  but  an  experiment  entered  upon  by  the  States  and  from 
which  each  and  every  State  had  the  right  peaceably  to  withdraw,  a 
right  which  was  very  likely  to  be  exercised. 

As  far  back  as  1887,  General  Thomas  C.  Ewing,  of 
Ohio,  said  in  a  speech  in  New  York : 

The  North  craves  a  living  and  lasting  peace  with  the  South ;  it 
also  asks  no  humiliating  conditions ;  it  recognizes  the  fact  that  the 
proximate  cause  of  the  war  was  the  constitutional  question  of  the 
right  of  secession — a  question  which,  until  it  was  settled  by  the  war, 
had  neither  a  right  side  nor  a  wrong  side  to  it.  Our  forefathers  in 
framing  the  Constitution  purposely  left  the  question  unsettled ;  to 
have  settled  it  distinctly  in  the  Constitution  would  have  been  to 
prevent  the  formation  of  the  Union  of  the  thirteen  States.  They, 
therefore,  committed  that  question  to  the  future,  and  the  war  came 
on  and  settled  it  forever.  And,  right  here,  let  me  say  that  the  South 
has  accepted  that  settlement  in  good  faith,  and  will  forever  abide 
by  it  as  loyally  as  the  North,  although  we  will  never  admit  that  our 
people  were  wrong  in  making  the  contest. 

This  question  was  calmly  and  logically  discussed  by 
Mr.  Charles  Francis  Adams  in  a  late  speech  delivered  in 
Charleston,  S.  C,  when  he  said : 

When  the  Federal  Constitution  was  framed  and  adopted,  "an  in- 
destructible  union   of   imperishable    States,"   what   was   the  law   of 


262  woMEjN  0]?  The;  coni?'e;de;racy 

treason,  to  what  or  to  whom  in  case  of  final  issue  did  the  average 
citizen  own  allegiance?  Was  it  to  the  Union  or  to  his  State?  As  a 
practical  question,  seeing  things  as  they  were  then — sweeping  aside 
all  incontrovertible  legal  arguments  and  metaphysical  disquisitions — 
I  do  not  think  the  answer  admits  of  doubt.  If  put  in  1788,  or  indeed 
at  any  time  anterior  to  1825,  the  immediate  reply  of  nine  men  out  of 
ten  in  the  Northern  States,  and  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  in  the 
Southern  States,  would  have  been  that,  as  between  the  Union  and 
the  State,  ultimate  allegiance  was  due  to  the  State. 


The;  cause;  not  lost 

[From  Memorial  Day,  pages  30-31.] 

A  few  weeks  ago  Dr.  E.  Benjamin  Andrews,  president 
of  Brown  University,  a  leading  institution  of  learning  iti 
a  New  England  State,  in  a  lecture  delivered  in  the  city 
of  New  Orleans  upon  the  life  and  character  of  the  Gen- 
eral of  the  Confederate  armies,  uttered  this  language: 

People  are  prone  to  allude  to  all  Lee  fought  for  as  the  "Lost 
Cause."  Yet,  like  Oliver  Cromwell,  Lee  has  accomplished  what  he 
fought  for,  and  more  than  could  have  been  accomplished  had  he 
been  victorious.  At  the  close  of  the  war  we  find  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  United  States  deciding  the  status  of  individual  States,  and 
the  result  is  found  to  be  that  while  the  Union  is  declared  to  be  inde- 
structible, each  State  is  regarded  as  an  indestructible  unit  of  that 
nation.  Who  would  dare  to  wipe  out  to-day  a  State's  individuality? 
And  do  we  not  find  to-day,  instead  of  centralized  power  in  Congress 
adjudicating  things  pertaining  to  the  States,  the  States  themselves 
settling  these  matters? 

Inasmuch  as  the  war  brought  out  these  utterances  with  regard 
to  the  States  of  the  Union  upon  matters  then  in  question,  who  can 
say  that  Lee  fought  in  vain? 


siyAVE;RY  AS  The;  south  saw  it 

[Vice-President  Alexander  H.  Stephens,  in  War  Between  the  States,  page  539.] 

The  matter  of  slavery,  so  called,  which  was  the  proxi- 
mate cause  of  these  irregular  movements  on  both  sides, 
and  which  ended  in  the  general  collision  of  war,  was  of 
infinitely  less  importance  to  the  seceding  States  than  the 
recognition  of  the  great  principles  of  constitutional  liber- 
ty.    There  was  with  us  no  such  thing  as  slavery  in  the 


WOMEN  Olf  THE  CONF'DDERACY  263 

true  and  proper  sense  of  that  word.  No  people  ever 
lived  more  devoted  to  the  principles  of  liberty,  secured 
by  free  democratic  institutions,  than  were  the  people  of 
the  South.  None  had  ever  given  stronger  proofs  of  this 
than  they  had  done.  What  was  called  slavery  amongst 
us  was  but  a  legal  subordination  of  the  African  to  the 
Caucasian  race.  This  relation  was  so  regulated  by  law 
as  to  promote,  according  to  the  intent  and  design  of  the 
system,  the  best  interests  of  both  races,  the  black  as  well 
as  the  white,  the  inferior  as  well  as  the  superior.  Both 
had  rights  secured  and  both  had  duties  imposed.  It  was 
a  system  of  reciprocal  service  and  mutual  bonds.  But 
even  the  two  thousand  million  dollars  invested  in  the 
relations  thus  established  between  private  capital  and  the 
labor  of  this  class  of  population  under  system,  was  but 
the  dust  in  the  balance  compared  with  the  vital  attributes 
of  the  rights  of  independence  and  sovereignty  on  the 
part  of  the  several  States. 


VINDICATION  OF  SOUTHERN   CAUSE 
[In   Southern  Historical  Papers,  pages  332-336.] 

Mr.  Percy  Greg,  the  justly  famous  English  historian, 
says :  "If  the  Colonies  were  entitled  to  judge  their  own 
cause,  much  more  were  the  Southern  States.  Their 
rights — not  implied,  assumed,  or  traditional,  like  those 
of  the  Colonies,  but  expressly  defined  and  solemnly 
guaranteed  by  law — had  been  flagrantly  violated;  the 
compact  which  alone  bound  them,  had  beyond  question 
been  systematically  broken  for  more  than  forty  years 
by  the  States  which  appealed  to  it." 

After  showing  the  perfect  regularity  and  legality  of 
the  secession  movement,  he  then  says :  "It  was  in  de- 
fence of  this  that  the  people  of  the  South  sprang  to  arms 
'to  defend  their  homes  and  families,  their  property  and 
their  rights,  the  honor  and  independence  of  their  States 
to  the  last,  against  five  fold  numbers  and  resources  a  hun- 
dred fold  greater  than  theirs.'  " 


264  wome:n  oif  thi:  coni'i:de;racy 

He  says  of  the  cause  of  the  North :  "The  cause  seems 
to  me  as  bad  as  it  well  could  be — the  determination  of  a 
mere  numerical  majority  to  enforce  a  bond,  which  they 
themselves  had  flagrantly  violated,  to  impose  their  own 
mere  arbitrary  will,  their  idea  of  national  greatness,  upon 
a  distinct,  independent,  determined,  and  almost  unani- 
mous people." 

And  then  he  says  as  Lord  Russell  did:  "The  North 
fought  for  empire  which  was  not  and  never  had  been 
hers;  the  South  for  an  independence  she  had  won  by 
the  sword,  and  had  enjoyed  in  law  and  fact  ever  since 
the  recognition  of  the  thirteen  sovereign  and  independent 
States,  if  not  since  the  foundation  of  Virginia.  Slavery 
was  but  the  occasion  of  the  rupture,  in  no  sense  the  ob- 
ject of  the  war." 

Let  me  add  a  statement  which  will  be  confirmed  by 
every  veteran  before  me — no  man  ever  saw  a  Virginia 
soldier  who  was  fighting  for  slavery. 

This  letter  then  speaks  of  the  conduct  of  the  Northern 
people  as  "unjust,  aggressive,  contemptuous  of  law  and 
right,"  and  as  presenting  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
"boundless  devotion,  uncalculating  sacrifice,  magnificent 
heroism,  and  unrivalled  endurance  of  the  Southern 
people." 

But  I  must  pass  on  to  what  a  distinguished  Northern 
writer  has  to  say  of  the  people  of  the  South,  and  their 
cause,  twenty-one  years  after  the  close  of  the  war.  The 
writer  is  Benjamin  J.  Williams,  Esq.,  of  Lowell,  Mass., 
and  the  occasion  which  brought  forth  this  paper  (address- 
ed to  the  Lowell  Sun)  was  the  demonstration  to  Presi- 
dent Davis  when  he  went  to  assist  in  the  dedication  of 
a  Confederate  monument  at  Montgomery,  Ala.  He  says 
of  Mr.  Davis: 

"Kverywhere  he  receives  from  the  people  the  most 
overwhelming  manifestations  of  heartfelt  affection,  de- 
votion, and  reverence,  exceeding  even  any  of  which 
he  was  the  recipient  in  the  time  of  its  power;  such  mani- 
festations as  no  existing  ruler  in  the  world  can  obtain 
from  his  people,  and  such  as  probably  were  never  given 
before  to  a  public  man,  old,  out  of  office,  with  no  favors 


WOME^N  01^  Tut  CONI^^DE^RACY  265 

to  dispense,  and  disfranchised.  Such  homage  is  signifi- 
cant; it  is  startHng.  It  is  given,  as  Mr.  Davis  himself 
has  recognized,  not  to  him  alone,  but  to  the  cause  whose 
chief  representative  he  is,  and  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to 
deny,  disguise,  or  evade  the  conclusion  that  there  must 
be  something  great  and  noble  and  true  in  him  and  in  the 
cause  to  evoke  this  homage." 

Mr.  Davis,  in  his  speech  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  monument  then  being  erected 
was  to  commemorate  the  deeds  of  those  "who  gave  their 
lives  a  free-will  offering  in  defence  of  the  rights  of  their 
sires,  won  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  the  State  sover- 
eignty, freedom  and  independence  which  were  left  to  us 
as  an  inheritance  to  their  posterity  forever." 

Mr.  Williams  says  of  this  definition :  "These  masterful 
words,  'the  rights  of  their  sires,  won  in  the  war  of  the 
Revolution,  the  State  sovereignty,  freedom  and  independ- 
ence which  were  left  to  us  an  inheritance  to  their  pos- 
terity forever,'  are  the  whole  case,  and  they  are  not  only 
a  statement  but  a  complete  justification  of  the  Confederate 
cause  to  all  who  are  acquainted  with  the  origin  and  char- 
acter of  the  American  Union." 

He  then  proceeds  to  tell  how  the  Constitution  was 
adopted  and  the  government  formed  by  the  individual 
States,  each  acting  for  itself,  separately  and  independently 
of  the  others,  and  then  says : 

"It  appears,  then,  from  this  view  of  the  origin  and 
character  of  the  American  Union,  that  when  the  Southern 
States,  deeming  the  constitutional  compact  broken,  and 
their  own  safety  and  happiness  in  imminent  danger  in  the 
Union,  withdrew  therefrom  and  organized  their  new  Con- 
federacy, they  but  asserted,  in  the  language  of  Mr,  Davis, 
the  rights  of  their  sires,  won  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution, 
the  State  sovereignty,  freedom,  and  independence,  which 
were  left  to  us  as  an  inheritance  to  their  posterity  forever,' 
and  it  was  in  defence  of  this  high  and  sacred  cause  that 
the  Confederate  soldiers  sacrificed  their  lives.  There  was 
no  need  of  war.  The  action  of  the  Southern  States  was 
legal  and  constitutional,  and  history  will  attest  that  it 
was  reluctantly  taken  in  the  extremity." 


266  woMKN  OF  thd  con]?e;di:racy 

He  now  goes  on  to  show  how  Mr.  Lincoln  precipitated 
the  war,  and  describes  the  unequal  struggle  in  which  the 
South  was  engaged  in  these  words:  "After  a  glorious 
four  years'  struggle  against  such  odds  as  have  been  de- 
picted, during  which  independence  was  often  almost  se- 
cured, where  successive  levies  of  armies,  amounting  in  all 
to  nearly  three  millions  of  men,  had  been  hurled  against 
her,  the  South,  shut  o£f  from  all  the  world,  wasted,  rent, 
and  desolate,  bruised  and  bleeding,  was  at  last  over- 
powered by  main  strength;  out- fought,  never;  for  from 
first  to  last,  she  everywhere  out- fought  the  foe.  The  Con- 
federacy fell,  but  she  fell  not  until  she  had  achieved  im- 
mortal fame.  Few  great  established  nations  in  all  time 
have  ever  exhibited  capacity  and  direction  in  government 
equal  to  hers,  sustained  as  she  was  by  the  iron  will  and 
fixed  persistence  of  the  extraordinary  man  who  was  her 
chief;  and  few  have  ever  won  such  a  series  of  brilliant 
victories  as  that  which  illuminates  forever  the  annals  of 
her  splendid  armies,  while  the  fortitude  and  patience  of 
her  people,  and  particularly  of  her  noble  women,  under 
almost  incredible  trials  and  sufiferings,  have  never  been 
surpassed  in  the  history  of  the  world." 

And  then  he  adds :  "Such  exalted  character  and 
achievement  are  not  all  in  vain.  Though  the  Confed- 
eracy fell,  as  an  actual  physical  power,  she  lives,  illus- 
trated by  them,  eternally  in  her  just  cause — the  cause  of 
constitutional  liberty." 


NORTHERN  VIEW  OF  SECDSSION 
[Charles  L,.   C.   Minor's  Real  lyincoln.] 

W.  H.  Russell,  the  famous  correspondent  of  the  Lon- 
don Times  J  in  his  diary  (page  13)  quotes  Bancroft,  the 
historian,  afterwards  Minister  to  England,  for  the  opin- 
ion, in  i860,  that  the  United  States  had  no  authority  to 
coerce  the  people  of  the  South;    and  Russell  reports  the 


WOM^N  01^  THE)  CONif^DKRACY  267 

same  opinion  prevailing  in  March,   1861,  in  New  York 
and  in  Washington. 

The  life  of  Charles  Francis  Adams,  Lincoln's  Minister 
to  England,  says  that  up  to  the  very  day  of  the  firing  on 
the  flag  the  attitude  of  the  Northern  States,  even  in  case 
of  hostilities,  was  open  to  grave  question,  while  that  of 
the  border  States  did  not  admit  of  a  doubt;  that  Mr. 
Seward,  the  member  of  the  President's  Cabinet,  re- 
pudiated not  only  the  right  but  the  wish  even  to  use  armed 
force  in  subjugating  the  Southern  States. 

Morse's  Lincoln  (Volume  I,  page  131)  makes  the  fol- 
lowing remarkable  statement :  "Greeley  and  Seward  and 
Wendell  Phillips,  representative  men,  were  little  better 
than  secessionists.  The  statement  sounds  ridiculous,  yet 
the  proof  against  each  one  comes  from  his  own  mouth. 
The  Tribune  had  retracted  none  of  these  disunion  senti- 
ments of  which  examples  have  been  given." 

Even  so  late  as  April  lo,  1861,  Seward  wrote  officially 
to  Charles  Francis  Adams,  Minister  to  England : 

"Only  an  imperial  and  despotic  government  could  sub- 
jugate thoroughly  disaffected  and  insurrectionary  mem- 
bers of  the  State." 

On  April  9th,  the  rumor  of  a  fight  at  Sumter  being 
spread  abroad,  Wendell  Phillips  said : 

"Here  are  a  series  of  States  girding  the  gulf  who  think 
that  their  peculiar  institutions  require  that  they  should 
have  a  separate  government ;  they  have  a  right  to  decide 
the  question  without  appealing  to  you  and  to  me.  *  * 
*  Standing  with  the  principles  of  'y6  behind  us,  who 
can  deny  them  that  right?" 

Woodrow  Wilson's  Division  and  Reunion  says  (page 
214)  that  President  Buchanan  agreed  with  the  Attorney 
General  (Hon.  Jere  Black,  of  Pennsylvania)  that  there 
was  no  constitutional  means  for  coercing  a  State  (as  his 
last  message  shows  beyond  a  doubt)  and  adds  that  such 
for  the  time  seemed  to  be  the  general  opinion  of  the  coun- 
try. 


26^  WOM^N  01^  TH]^  CONFE^DE:raCY 

MAJOR  J.   SCHEIBERT    (oi?  THE;  PRUSSIAN  ARMY)    ON 

con]Pe:derate;  history 

[In  Southern  Historical  Papers,  Volume  i8,  pages  425-428.] 

Tariff 

Besides  the  differences  of  race  and  religion,  nature 
itself,  through  the  varied  geographical  position  of  the 
States,  had  created  relations  of  varied  character  that  not 
only  must  conflict  ensue,  but  the  least  law  affecting  the 
whole  Union  often  aroused  diametrically  and  sharply 
opposed  interests;  the  consequences  of  which  were  to 
embitter  sectional  opinions  to  an  intolerable  degree. 

When  the  North  demanded  tariff  protection  for  their 
industries  as  against  European  competition,  the  Southern 
States  insisted  upon  free  trade,  so  as  not  to  be  compelled 
to  buy  costly  products  of  the  North.  The  New  England 
States  strove  for  concentration  of  power  in  the  national 
government ;  the  Southerners  believed  that  the  independ- 
ence of  the  individual  States  must  be  maintained,  and 
when  the  Southerners  demanded  protection  for  their 
labor,  which  was  performed  by  imported  negroes,  the 
North  answered  with  evasion  of  the  laws,  while,  in  direct 
opposition  to  these  laws,  it  denied  to  the  master  the  right 
to  his  escaped  negroes.  From  any  point  of  view,  there 
existed,  and  exist  to-day,  interests  almost  irreconcilably 
opposed,  which  make  it  difficult  for  the  most  earnest 
student  of  American  affairs  to  find  a  clew  in  such  a 
tangled  labyrinth.  The  difficulty  in  the  present  under- 
taking is  to  make  good  the  fact  that  the  so-called  Con- 
federates, who  have  been  by  almost  all  the  German 
writers  represented  as  "Rebels,"  stood  firm  upon  a 
ground  of  right  of  law. 

If  the  central  government  at  Washington  was  the  sov- 
ereign power,  then  the  (Southern)  States  were  in  the 
wrong,  and  their  citizens  were  simply  rebels.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  individual  States  were  separate  and 
sovereign  political  bodies,  then  their  secession,  independ- 
ent of  consideration  of  expediency  or  selfishness,  .was  a 
politically  justifiable  withdrawal  from  a  previous  limited 
alliance;    and  in  this  case  it  was  the  duty  of  citizens  of 


wome:n  of*  The:  confedhracy  269 

the  States  to  go  with  their  States.  As  a  proper  conse- 
quence of  these  different  views,  the  Federals  considered 
as  a  traitor  every  citizen  who  opposed  the  central  govern- 
ment, however  his  individual  State  may  have  determined ; 
while  the  Confederates,  after  the  declaration  of  war  on 
the  part  of  the  ITnion,  looked  on  the  Federalists  indeed 
as  enemies,  but  considered  as  traitors  only  those  citizens 
who,  in  opposition  to  the  vote  of  their  States,  yet  adhered 
to  the  Union.  *  *  *  *  Instead  of  inquiring  into 
emotion  and  sympathies,  the  question  is  an  historical  one 
as  to  the  origin  of  the  Union ;  that  is,  to  seek  in  the 
founding  of  the  United  States  in  what  relation, — at  that 
time,  the  States  stood  to  the  central  government,  the  mode 
of  their  covenant,  and  how  the  relation  of  the  several 
States  to  the  common  union  was  developed.  The  col- 
onies, therefore,  united  not  because  the  citizens  in  general 
were  oppressed  by  the  British  Government,  but  because 
one  colony  felt,  whether  rightly  or  not,  that  it  was  op- 
pressed and  insulted  as  an  independent  political  body. 
In  the  first  movement  of  independence  was  exhibited 
clearly  the  consciousness  that  the  colonies  felt  themselves 
separate  political  bodies.  Even  at  that  time  the  assembly 
of  delegates  designated  itself  "as  a  congress  of  twelve 
independent  political  bodies,"  and  in  the  Union  each  of 
the  colonies  issued  its  separate  declaration.  When  the 
delegates  of  the  thirteen  colonies  met  in  their  first  Con- 
gress the  first  permanent  Union  was  founded ;  which  was 
ratified  by  each  colony  as  a  separate  body,  as  one  by  one 
they  entered  the  Union. 

Slavery 

With  the  question  as  to  the  origin  of  the  war,  the 
enemies  of  the  South  have  mingled  another — the  slavery 
question — which  strictly  does  not  belong  to  it.  This 
slavery  question  was  inscribed  on  the  banners  of  the  war 
v/hen  it  was  seen  that  thereby  could  be  enlisted  on  the 
side  of  the  North  the  sympathies  of  the  old  world,  and  of 
a  great  part  of  their  own  inhabitants,  especially  of  the 
German  immigrants.  This  question  could  never  legally 
be  the  cause  of  the  war,  for  the  Constitution  expressly 


270  WOMI^N  0^  THEJ  CONI^DDKRACY 

says  that  the  question  of  slavery  should  be  regulated  by 
the  State  legislatures.  *  *  *  *  ^t  the  time  of  the 
founding  of  the  Union,  eleven  of  the  thirteen  States  were 
slave-holding,  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  it  then 
occurred  to  no  writer  nor  humanitarian  in  America  or 
Europe  even  to  think  that  this  ownership  (of  slaves)  was 
a  wrong  or  a  crime.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  insti- 
tution was  accepted  not  only  as  a  matter  of  course,  but 
that  it  was  also  especially  protected,  the  farming  interest 
being  granted  an  increased  suffrage  in  proportion  to  the 
number  of  negroes  on  their  plantations.  ***** 
Even  in  the  last  days,  before  the  outbreak  of  war,  when 
the  press  and  demagogues  raised  the  slavery  question  in 
order  to  inflame  the  masses,  the  statesman  (of  the  North) 
carefully  avoided  such  a  blunder,  since  the  slavery  ques- 
tion was  not  the  ground  of  the  war,  and  could  not  be  pro- 
claimed as  such." 


n 


CHAPTER  VI 


matkr  rediviva 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTi: 
[By  J.  Iv.  Underwood.] 

For  twenty  years  after  the  dose  of  the  war  most  of 
the  Southern  States,  through  the  bayonet-enforced 
amendments  to  the  Constitution  and  the  carpet-bag  negro 
governments  estabHshed  under  them,  were  kept  under 
mihtary  rule.  The  men  met  the  awful  responsibility  and 
their  hideous  trials  with  an  amazing  courage  and  sought 
to  counteract,  in  every  possible  way,  the  work  of  Congress 
at  Washington  and  the  work  of  the  Union  Leagues  and 
other  secret  societies  among  the  negroes  at  home,  and  to 
build  up  the  South  in  spite  of  the  demoralization  of  labor. 
The  Ku  Klux  Klan,  a  secret  vigilance  committee,  did 
much  good  in  terrifying  the  carpet-bag  deposits  and 
breaking  up  the  secret  armed  midnight  meetings  of  the 
negroes.  Rowdy  imitators  of  the  Ku  Klux  afterwards 
in  many  instances  did  much  harm. 

But  the  women  kept  on  at  work.  They  have  never 
faltered,  and  never  shown  any  weariness.  Thousands 
left  penniless  who  were  once  wealthy,  took  up  whatever 
work  came  to  hand.  The  writer  knew  the  daughter-in- 
law  of  a  wealthy  Congressman  and  the  daughter  of  a 
governor  of  two  States  to  plow  her  own  garden  with  a 
mule.  He  saw  all  over  the  country  the  members  of  the 
oldest  and  wealthiest  families  of  the  Atlantic  coast  teach- 
ing school,  even  far  in  the  west.  Not  a  murmur  escaped 
their  lips.  They  cheered  each  other  as  they  strengthened 
the  nerves  of  the  men. 

But  they  kept  up  their  work  for  the  Confederate 
soldiers,  and  keep  it  up  to  this  day.  Soldiers'  graves  were 
everywhere  looked  after.  Memorial  associations  were 
organized  all  over  the  South.      The  two  great  societies 


272  WOMI^N  O^  THK  CONI^DDERACY 

of  Richmond,  the  Hollywood  and  the  Oakwood,  each 
looking  after  thousands  of  graves,  the  names  of  whose 
occupants  are  unknown,  are  doing  the  most  sublime  work 
the  world  ever  saw.  The  Southern  women  soon  extended 
their  efforts  to  building  Confederate  monuments  all 
over  the  South,  providing  soldiers'  homes  in  the  various 
States  and  securing  what  pensions  the  Southern  States 
could  afford.  As  long  as  they  live  they  work  for  the 
cause  they  loved ;  when  they  die  their  spirit  lives  on  in 
their  worthy  daughters. 


the:  i:mpty  sive;i:ve: 

[By  Dr.    G.   W.    Eagby.] 
[In  Living  Writers  of  the  South,  pages  28-29.] 

Tom,  old  fellow,  I  grieve  to  see 

That  sleeve  hanging  loose  at  your  side. 
The  arm  you  lost  was  worth  to  me 

Every  Yankee  that  ever  died. 
But  you  don't  mind  it  at  all. 

You  swear  you've  a  beautiful  stump, 
And  laugh  at  the  damnable  ball. 

Tom,  I  knew  you  were  always  a  trump! 

A  good  right  arm,  a  nervy  hand, 

A  wrist  as  strong  as  a  sapling  oak. 
Buried  deep  in  the  Malvern  sand — 

To  laugh  at  that  is  a  sorry  joke. 
Never  again  your  iron  grip 

Shall  I  feel  in  my  shrinking  palm. 
Tom,  Tom,  I  see  your  trembling  lip. 

How  on  earth  can  I  be  calm? 

Well!    the  arm  is  gone,  it  is  true; 

But  the  one  nearest  the  heart 
Is  left,  and  that's  as  good  as  two. 

Tom,   old  fellow,  what  makes  you  start? 
Why,  man,  she  thinks  that  empty  sleeve 

A  badge  of  honor;    so  do  I 
And  all  of  us, — -I   do  believe 

The  fellow  is  going  to  cry. 

"She   deserves  a  perfect  man,"   you  say. 

You,   "not  worth   her  in  your  prime." 
Tom,  the  arm  that  has  turned  to  clay 

Your  whole  body  has  made  sublime; 
For  you   have  placed   in   the   Malvern   earth 

The  proof  and  the  pledge  of  a  noble  life, 
And  the  rest,  henceforward  of  higher  worth. 

Will  be  dearer  than  all  to  your  wife. 

I  see  the  people  in  the  street 

IvOok  at  your  sleeve  with  kindling  eyes; 
And  know  you,   Tom,  there's  nought  so  sweet, 

As  homage  shown  in  mute  surmise. 
Bravely  your  arm  in  battle  strove, 

Freely  for  freedom's  sake  you  gave  it; 
It  has  perished,  but  a  nation's  love 

Jn  proud  remembrance  will  save  it. 


WOMEN  OF  TPIE  CONFEDERACY  2/3 

As  I  look  through  the  coming  years, 

I  see  a  one-armed  married  man; 
A  little  woman,  with  smiles  and  tears. 

Is  helping  as  hard  as  she  can 
To  put  on  his  coat,  and  pin  his  sleeve. 

Tie  his  cravat,  and  cut  his  food, 
And  I  say,  as  these  fancies  I  weave, 

"That  is  Tom,  and  the  woman  he  wooed." 

The  years  roll  on,  and  then  I  see 

A  wedding  picture,  bright  and  fair; 
I  look  closer,  and  it's  plain  to  me 

That  is   Tom,  with  the  silver  hair. 
He  gives  away  the  lovely  bride. 

And  the  guests  linger,  loth  to  leave 
The  house  of  him  in  whom  they  pride, — 

Brave   Tom,   old   Tom,   with   the  empty  sleeve. 


The  oed  hoopskirt 

[J.   L.   Underwood.] 

The  only  ante-bellum  property  which  Sherman  and 
Thad  Stevens  left  the  Confederate  woman  was  her  old 
hoopskirt.  They  could  neither  confiscate  nor  burn,  nor 
set  this  free.  Like  slavery,  it  was  so  closely  connected 
with  her  life  that  it  cannot  be  ignored  in  her  history. 

The  Southern  woman  always  kept  well  up  with  the 
latest  fashions  in  dress.  In  the  fifties  the  modistes  of 
Paris,  whose  word,  however  absurd,  was  law  to  the 
women  of  the  civilized  world,  sent  out  the  famous  hoop- 
skirt. It  was  not  an  article  of  dress,  but  a  mere  con- 
trivance for  sustaining  and  exhibiting  the  clothes  that 
were  worn  over  it.  It  was  made  of  a  succession  of  small 
but  strong  steel  wires  bent  into  circles  and  fastened  to 
each  other  by  cross  bars  of  tape.  The  lower  hoop  was 
usually  from  four  to  eight  feet  in  diameter,  according 
to  taste,  and  the  top  one  but  little  larger  than  the  woman's 
waist,  from  which  the  whole  net-work  was  hung.  It  held 
whatever  clothes  were  put  over  it  in  the  shape  of  a  church 
bell  or  a  horizontal  section  of  a  balloon. 

Like  all  new  fashions,  some  carried  this  one  to  gro- 
tesque extremes.  One  of  the  bon-ton  set  of  Columbia, 
S.  C.,  in  1858  was  the  remarkably  beautiful  and  charm- 
ing Mrs.  ,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  professors  in 

South  Carolina  College.  It  is  a  fact  that,  on  average 
18 


274  WOME^N  Olf  THS  CONI^ElDE^RACY 

sidewalks  in  that  beautiful  city,  wherever  she  was  met  by 
gentlemen  they  had  to  step  into  the  street  and  give  the 
whole  pavement  to  her  tremendous  skirt.  Most  of  our 
Southern  beauties  were  more  merciful. 

When  the  hoopskirt  first  came,  it  looked  as  if  Paris 
had  sent  out  the  greatest  of  all  the  absurdities.  The  men 
laughed,  the  boys  jeered,  and  the  newspapers  poured  out 
invectives  against  the  monster.  The  country  preachers 
anathematized  it  and  urged  its  excommunication  from 
the  church.  But  the  hoopskirt  came  to  stay.  Veni,  vidl, 
vici.  It  whipped  the  fight,  and  when  the  war  between 
the  States  came  on  it  was  in  control  of  the  Southern  fe- 
male wardrobe.  It  enlisted  for  "three  years  or  the  war." 
It  clung  to  our  mothers  like  Ruth  to  Naomi.  "Entreat 
me  not  to  leave  thee,  or  to  return  from  following  after 
thee;  for  whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go,  and  where  thou 
lodgest  I  will  lodge."  It  proved  a  godsend  on  account 
of  the  Federal  blockade  of  the  ports.  Articles  of  clothing 
soon  became  scarce,  and  when  the  silks  had  all  gone  into 
flags  and  the  gingham  into  shirts  for  the  soldiers,  with  a 
dainty  home-spun  skirt  stretched  over  the  hoopskirt,  our 
mothers  looked  like  they  were  dressed  whether  they  were 
or  not. 

It  was  a  good  umbrella  as  far  as  it  went  and  it  was 
a  special  convenience  to  the  refugee  women  who  had  to 
camp  in  the  woods.  At  night  a  short  pole  was  set  in  the 
ground  with  a  short  horizontal  cross  piece  tacked  across 
its  top.  Over  this  was  stretched  the  hoopskirt  and  over 
it  a  sheet,  and,  behold  a  beautiful,  cozy  Sibley  tent  for 
two  or  three  children  to  sleep  under.  It  was  our  mother's 
faithful  friend  and  companion  to  the  end  of  the  war. 
Like  the  old  soldier's  sword  it  came  out  very  much  bat- 
tered and  worn  by  long  service.  Like  the  old  soldier 
himself,  it  had  been  v/ounded  and  broken  and  mended  and 
spliced  until  it  was  hardly  its  former  self.  In  their 
fatigue  outfit  our  mothers  laid  aside  the  hoopskirt  and 
tucked  up  what  was  left.  But  on  dress  parade,  in  meet- 
ing, company,  and  attending  church  it  was  her  constant 
friend  and  companion.  The  South  embalms  in  its  mem- 
ories the  deeds  of  its  men  and  the  toil  of  its  women. 


womdn  o^  thd  con?i;de^racy  275 

Father's  old  sword  and  John's  gray  jacket  are  sacred 
heirlooms.     So  are  the  old  spinning  wheel  and  hand  loom, 

"And  e'en   the   old  hoopskirt  which  hung  on  the   wall, 
The  old  hoopskirt. 
The  steel-ribbed  skirt, 
The  old  hoopskirt  which  hung  on   the  wall." 

One  thing  in  the  management  of  the  hoopskirt  the  men 
never  could  understand.  How  in  the  world  could  all 
those  steel  wires  be  bundled  and  controlled  when  a  woman 
rode  horseback  or  had  to  be  packed  in  a  buggy  or  car- 
riage ? 

It  was  always  a  like  wonder  how  the  women  could 
dance  so  nimbly  and  gracefully  with  long  trains  and 
never  get  tripped  or  tangled  in  them.  Our  women  man- 
aged the  trains  and  the  hoopskirts  just  as  tactfully  and 
thoroughly  and  gracefully  as  they  did  their  hard-headed 
husbands  and  silly  sweethearts.  How  they  did  it  nobody 
can  tell,  but  they  did  it. 

About  the  very  last  days  of  the  war  one  of  these  old 
hoopskirts  played  a  conspicuous  part  in  a  tragedy  in  the 
suburbs  of  Camilla,  then  a  very  small  village,  the  county 
seat  of  Mitchell  County,  Ga.  A  farmer  by  the  name  of 
Taylor  lived  near  the  Hoggard  Swamp.  He  had  a  friend 
living  in  the  town  by  the  name  of  O'Brien.  Both  of  them 
often  visited  a  very  thrifty  widow  by  the  name  of  Wool- 
ley.  On  her  disappearance  Taylor  had  put  out  the  report 
that  she  had  moved  back  to  South  Carolina,  but  the  truth 
was  he  had  murdered  her  for  her  money  and  buried  her 
body  under  some  peach  trees  near  the  swamp.  No  sus- 
picion was  aroused  until  Taylor  returned  from  a  trip  to 
Albany  without  O'Brien,  who  had  gone  off  with  him,  and 
a  report  came  down  from  Albany  that  O'Brien's  dead  body 
had  been  found  near  there  in  the  woods.  Then  suspicion 
put  in  its  work.  Murder  was  in  the  air,  but  nowhere  else 
as  yet.  People  held  their  breath.  Some  women  late  one 
afternoon  happened  to  pass  the  peach  trees  mentioned  and 
noticed  the  suspicious  looking  fresh  soil  under  them.  As 
soon  as  they  reached  home  they  reported  the  circumstance 
and  a  party  was  soon  made  up  to  go  that  night  and  make 
an  examination.     The  women  guided  them  to  the  spot. 


276  WOMIJN  01^  THI:  CONI^EJDE^RACY 

They  were  afraid  to  make  a  bright  fire  and  they  used 
only  a  dim  light  by  burning  corn  cobs.  Their  blood  ran 
cold  when  in  a  very  few  moments  they  were  satisfied  that 
they  were  digging  into  the  poor  woman's  grave.  Sud- 
denly on  the  quick  removal  of  a  shovel  or  two  more  of 
dirt,  up  flew  a  woman's  dress  and  white  underclothing 
pretty  high  in  the  air.  Then  there  was  a  stampede  for 
life.  Terror  seized  the  men's  very  bones.  After  a  while 
they  mustered  courage  enough  to  return  and  find  that  the 
woman  was  dead  and  her  hoopskirt  had  been  weighted 
down  by  the  soil  and  as  soon  as  this  was  sufficiently  re- 
moved, it  flew  up  with  all  its  fearful  elasticity.  There 
was  life  in  it  even  in  the  grave.  Taylor  was  tried,  con- 
victed, and  hung. 


TH^  POIvlTlCAI,  CRIME;S  01^  THE  NINEITDKNTH  Ce:nTURY 
[By  J.  ly.  Underwood.] 

The  first  of  the  great  crimes  of  the  last  century  was 
the  great  rebellion  of  the  Northern  States  against  the 
Federal  constitutional  Union,  "the  best  government  the 
world  ever  saw."  Nine  of  these  States  in  solemn  legis- 
lative action,  in  the  fifties,  utterly  repudiated  their  con- 
tract in  the  Federal  Constitution.  They  nullified  the  acts 
of  Congress  and  repudiated  and  defied  the  decisions  of 
the  Supreme  Court. 

This  rebellion  at  the  North  broke  up  "the  glorious 
Union  of  our  fathers,"  and  drove  the  South,  like  poor 
Hagar,  into  the  wilderness  to  look  out  for  herself,  without 
a  charge  from  any  quarter  that  a  Southern  State  had 
committed  one  single  act  in  violation  of  Federal  law  or 
in  hostility  to  the  Constitution.  Then  came  the  second 
great  crime,  the  crime  so  vigorously  denounced  at  the 
time  by  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  the  most  consistent  and 
the  most  heroic  of  the  Northern  Abolitionists,  Horace 
Greeley  and  Wendell  Phillips,  the  crime  of  coercion  af  the 
weaker  by  the  stronger  States,  the  military  invasion  of 
the  South  under  the  prostituted  flag  of  the  Union,  and 


woM^N  01^  The;  coNifi^DiiRACY  277 

the  final  subjugation  of  her  people  by  fire  and  sword. 
O  temp  or  a!     O  Jiiorcs! 

The  acts  of  congress  for  years  after  the  Southern  army 
had  honorably  laid  down  its  arms  and  gone  home  to  plow 
and  plant  the  fields  make  the  blackest  pages  in  the  history 
of  modern  times.  The  writer  dreads  to  put  in  print  his 
estimate  of  such  a  political  monster  as  Thad  Stevens,  the 
misanthropic  genius  of  reconstruction,  the  Robespierre  of 
America.  Robespierre's  guillotine  cut  off  the  heads  of 
its  victims.  Thad  Stevens's  guillotine  cut  off  all  hopes 
from  Southern  hearts.  He  avowed  it  his  purpose  to  ex- 
terminate the  Southern  white  people,  to  confiscate  their 
property  into  the  hands  of  the  negroes,  and  with  these 
negroes  to  keep  the  country  forever  under  the  dominion 
of  his  party.  According  to  him  and  his  followers  to  this 
day  this  party  of  (so-called)  high  moral  ideas  must 
be  kept  in  power  no  matter  what  crimes  are  committed  in 
securing  the  ascendency.  This  is  political  Jesuitism  run 
mad. 

The  saddest,  strangest  part  of  the  history  is  that  it  was 
twenty  years  before  the  Northern  people  came  to  their 
reason  and  put  a  check  on  this  ruinous  fratricidal  policy. 
If  the  writer  shall  go  to  his  grave  with  a  holy  horror  of 
the  bald  malignity,  the  reckless  folly,  the  cowardly  spite, 
the  sweeping  curse  of  the  reconstruction  measures  of 
Thad.  Stevens  and  his  Congress,  he  will  find  himself  in 
good  company.  He  once  heard  the  great  and  good  Dr. 
John  A.  Broadus,  of  the  Southern  Baptist  Theological 
Seminary,  say,  "I  can  easily  forgive  and  forget  the  war. 
It  was  war,  and  all  the  wrongs  done  in  it  died  away  with 
the  cannon's  roar.  But  I  find  it  so  hard  to  forgive  the 
excuseless  wrongs  done  to  the  Southern  people  since  the 
war." 

Dr.  Broadus  was  a  Southern  man,  but  Rev.  Dr.  H.  M. 
Field,  the  fair-minded  and  patriotic  author  of  "Bright 
Skies  and  Dark  Shadows,"  is  not  a  Southern  man.  Hear 
what  he  says  in  his  book : 

In  South  Carolina  and  the  Gulf  States  negro  government  had 
a  clean  sweep,  and  if  we  are  to  believe  the  records  of  the  times,  it 
was  a  period  of  corruption  such  as  had  never  been  known  in  the 


278  WOMEN  OP  THE  CONFEDERACY 

history  of  the  country.  The  blacks  having  nothing  to  lose,  were 
ready  to  vote  to  impose  any  tax,  or  to  issue  any  bonds  of  town, 
country  or  State  provided  they  had  a  share  in  the  booty;  and  this 
negro  government  manipulated  by  the  carpet  baggers,  ran  riot  over 
the  South.  It  was  chaos  come  again.  The  former  masters  were 
governed  by  their  servants,  while  the  latter  were  governed  by  a  set 
of  adventurers  and  plunderers.  The  history  of  these  days  is  one 
which  we  cannot  recall  without  indignation  and  shame.  After  a 
time  the  moral  sense  of  the  North  was  so  shocked  by  their  perform- 
ances that  a  Republican  administration  had  to  withdraw  its  pro- 
consuls, when  things  resumed  their  former  condition  and  the  man- 
agement of  affairs  came  back  into  the  old  hands. 

These  national  crimes  which  so  woefully  afflicted  the 
people  of  the  South  after  peace  was  made  were : 

1.  The  refusal  to  carry  out  Mr.  Lincoln's  cherished 
plan  of  reconstruction  by  immediate  readmission  of  se- 
ceding States  after  an  orderly  and  legal  abolition  of 
slavery. 

2.  The  sudden  emancipation  of  millions  of  African 
slaves.  Gradual  emancipation  would  have  been  so  much 
better  for  their  interests  and  for  the  welfare  of  the  coun- 
try. 

3.  The  conferring  of  civil  rights  so  early  upon  the 
freedmen.  If  they  had  not  been  made  citizens  they  could 
have  been  colonized  in  due  time  and  provided  for,  as  the 
Indians  have  been,  with  land  and  homes. 

4.  Enfranchisement  of  these  grossly  ignorant  Afri- 
cans. 

5.  Disfranchisement  of  the  best  people  of  the  South. 

6.  Arming  the  blacks  and  disarming  the  white  people. 

7.  The  un-American  crime  of  uniting  church  and  state 
and  the  employment  of  a  religious  society  to  carry  out 
directly  the  schemes  of  a  political  faction.  Jesus  Christ 
never  authorized  any  such  work.  He  never  gave  the 
least  authorization  of  any  church  machinery  through 
which  such  a  union  could  be  effected.  God  wants  the 
good  lives  of  men,  and  not  compact  and  imposing  church 
organizations.  They  can  be  so  easily  perverted  to  un- 
holy purposes  and  made  so  effective  in  destroying  human 
liberty  and  crushing  human  rights.  The  union  of  church 
and  state  was  the  curse  of  the  middle  ages  and  the  blight 
of  modern  Europe. 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  2/9 

It  was  an  ominous  day  for  America  and  a  woeful  day 
for  the  South,  when,  upon  the  enfranchisement  o^f  the 
negroes,  the  pohticians  in  power  and  the  fanatical  North- 
ern Methodist  Episcopal   Church  organized  and  trans- 
planted in  the  South  the  African  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  and  employed  it  directly  in  manipulating  the  votes 
of  the  ignorant  negroes.     The  great  iron  wheel  control- 
ling the  whole  machine  was  put  into  the  hands  of  a  poli- 
tical boss  committee  in  Washington.     Just  within  this 
was  the  wheel  turned  by  an  absolute  bishop  in  each  State. 
The  most  malignant  of'all  the  Southern  negro  politicians, 
Bishop  H.  M.  Turner,  had  the  control  of  the  Georgia 
wheel  and  turns  it  to  this  day.     Then  came  the  smaller 
wheels,  turned  by  the  presiding  elder  in  each  Congres- 
sional district,  enclosing  the  little  wheels  in  the  hands  of 
the  preachers  and  circuit  riders  and  stewards.     The  ig- 
norant negroes  were  wound  tightly  by  the  ropes  into 
a  solid  mass,  and  voted  like  slaves  by  the  officers  of  the 
new  imported  Northern  church  and  the  strikers  of  the 
Union  League.     It  was  enough  to  make  a  patriot  de- 
spair of  the  country  and  a  Christian  to  despair  of  religion 
to  witness  these  scenes.     It  made  the  white  people  of 
the  South  get  together  in  self-defence.     It  inevitably  set 
race  against  race  in  politics.     This  slimy  trail  of  this 
union  of  church  and  state  has  done  sad  work  for  the 
South  and  dangerous  work  for  the  whole  country.     The 
church  iron  wheel  organized  a  solid  mass  of  ignorant 
negro  voters  on  one  side  of  the   Southern  ballot  box. 
This  necessitated  a  "solid  South"  of  white  voters  on  the 
other  side. 

8.  Demoralizing  the  negroes  for  generations  by  mak- 
ing them  believe  themselves  to  be  special  wards  of  the 
nation  and  holding  out  to  them  the  delusive  promise  of 
"forty  acres  and  a  mule"  as  a  pension  for  slavery  and  a 
reward  for  party  loyalty. 

9.  Taking  away  by  act  of  Congress,  without  a  dollar 
of  compensation,  the  slave  property  of  orphans,  widows 
and  Union  men.  the  property  recognized  by  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  government. 

10.  By  force  of  bayonets  keeping  in  the  Southern  high 


28o  woMDN  OP  THE  conf'e;di;racy 

places  of  power  the  carpet-bag  adventurer  from  the  North 
and  the  irresponsible,  unprincipled  scalawag  who  had  for 
the  sake  of  office  turned  his  back  upon  his  native  South. 

11.  Unlawful  confiscation  of  Southern  lands,  much  of 
it  belonging  to  orphans  and  widows. 

12.  Enormous  and  unjust  tax  on  cotton,  at  that  time 
the  only  marketable  product  of  the  Southern  farms. 

These  were  the  woes  which  the  "Reconstruction"  meas- 
ures of  the  Federal  Congress  made  for  our  Southern  peo- 
ple, a  burden  mountain-high,  Ossa  on  Pelion,  Pelion  upon 
Ossa.  But  grimly,  patiently,  bravely  did  our  men  bear 
up  under  it.  Political  crimes  always  hurt  the  women 
more  than  the  men.  Our  women  stood  by  and  cheered 
and  comforted  and  helped  as  only  such  women  can  help 
through  all  the  toil,  the  gloom  and  wrongs  of  those  dark 
days.     God  bless  their  memories! 


BRAVi:  TO  THE)  I,AST 
[Elggleston's  Recollections,  pages  73-76.'] 

But  if  the  cheerfulness  of  the  women  during  the  war 
was  remarkable,  what  shall  we  say  of  the  way  in  which 
they  met  its  final  failure  and  the  poverty  that  came  with 
it?  The  end  of  the  war  completed  the  ruin  which  its 
progress  had  wrought.  Women  who  had  always  lived 
in  luxury,  and  whose  labors  and  sufferings  during  the 
war  were  lightened  by  the  consciousness  that  in  suffering 
and  laboring  they  were  doing  their  part  toward  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  end  upon  which  all  hearts  were  set, 
were  now  compelled  to  face  not  temporary  but  permanent 
poverty,  and  to  endure,  without  a  motive  or  a  sustaining 
purpose,  still  sorer  privations  than  they  had  known  in 
the  past.  The  country  was  exhausted,  and  nobody  could 
foresee  any  future  but  one  of  abject  wretchedness. 
Everybody  was  poor  except  the  speculators  who  had  fat- 
tened upon  the  necessities  of  the  women  and  children,  and 
so  poverty  was  essential  to  anything  like  good  repute. 
The  return  of  the  soldiers  made  some  sort  of  social  fes- 


WOMKN  05*  THI:  confederacy  28 1 

tivity  necessary,  and  "starvation  parties"  were  given,  at 
which  it  was  understood  that  the  givers  were  wholly  un- 
able to  set  out  refreshments  of  any  kind.  In  the  matter 
of  dress,  too,  the  general  poverty  was  recognized,  and 
every  one  went  clad  in  whatever  he  or  she  happened  to 
have.  The  want  of  means  became  a  jest,  and  nobody 
mourned  over  it;  while  all  were  laboring  to  repair  their 
wasted  fortunes  as  they  best  could.  And  all  this  was  due 
solely  to  the  unconquerable  cheerfulness  of  the  Southern 
women.  The  men  came  home  moody,  worn  out,  dis- 
couraged, and  but  for  the  influence  of  woman's  cheerful- 
ness the  Southern  States  might  have  fallen  into  a  lethargy 
from  which  they  could  not  have  recovered  for  genera- 
tions. Such  prosperity  as  they  have  since  achieved  is 
largely  due  to  the  courage  and  spirit  of  their  noble 
women. 


SAI,I,IE  DURHAM  ^ 

[From  Life  In  Dixie,  pages  304-308,  by  Mary  A.  H.   Gay.] 

Dr.  Durham  came  to  Decatur,  Ga.,  in  1859.  Well  do 
I  remember  the  children — two  handsome  sons,  John  and 
William — two  pretty  brown-eyed  girls,  Sarah  and  Cath- 
erine. 

The  Durham  residence,  which  was  on  Sycamore 
Street,  then  stood  just  eastward  of  where  Colonel  G.  W. 
Scott  now  lives.  The  rear  of  the  house  faced  the  site 
where  the  depot  had  been  before  it  was  burned  by  the 
Federals,  the  distance  being  about  350  yards.  Hearing 
an  incoming  train,  Sallie  went  to  the  dining-room  win- 
dow to  look  at  the  cars,  as  she  had  learned  in  some  way 
that  they  contained  Federal  troops.  While  standing  at 
the  window,  resting  against  the  sash,  she  was  struck  by  a 
bullet  fired  from  the  train.  It  was  afterwards  learned 
that  the  cars  were  filled  with  negro  troops  on  their  way 
to  Savannah,  who  were  firing  off  their  guns  in  a  random, 
reckless  manner.  The  ball  entered  the  left  breast  of  this 
dear  young  girl,  ranging  obliquely  downward,  coming 
out  just  below  the  waist,  and  lodging  in  the  door  of  a 


282  woMKN  OP  The;  coni^eideiracy 

safe,  or  cupboard,  which  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room.  This  old  safe,  with  the  mark  of  the  ball,  is 
still  in  the  village.  The  wounded  girl  fell,  striking  her 
head  against  the  dining  table,  but  arose,  and,  walking  up 
a  long  hall,  she  threw  open  the  door  of  her  father's  room, 
calling  to  him  in  a  voice  of  distress. 

Springing  from  the  bed,  he  said :  "What  is  it,  my 
child?" 

"Oh,  father,"  she  exclaimed,  "the  Yankees  have 
killed  me!" 

Every  physician  in  the  village  and  city  and  her  father's 
three  brothers  were  summoned,  but  nothing  could  be  done 
except  to  alleviate  her  sufferings.  She  could  only  lie  on 
her  right  side,  with  her  left  arm  in  a  sling  suspended  from 
the  ceiling.  Every  attention  was  given  by  relatives  and 
friends.  Her  grandmother  Durham  came  and  brought 
with  her  the  old  family  nurse.  Sallie's  schoolmates  and 
friends  were  untiring  in  their  attentions. 

During  the  week  that  her  life  slowly  ebbed  away,  there 
was  another  who  ever  lingered  near  her,  a  sleepless  and 
tireless  watcher,  a  young  man  of  a  well  known  family,  to 
whom  this  sweet  young  girl  was  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried. Sallie  was  shot  on  Friday  at  7.30  A.  M.,  and  died 
the  following  Friday  at  3.30  A.  M.  General  Stephenson 
was  in  command  of  the  Federal  post  at  Atlanta.  He  was 
notified  of  this  tragedy,  and  sent  an  officer  to  investigate. 
This  officer  refused  to  take  anybody's  word  that  Sallie 
had  been  shot  by  a  United  States  soldier  from  the  train ; 
but,  dressed  in  full  uniform,  with  spur  and  sabre  rattling 
upon  the  bare  floor,  he  advanced  to  the  bed  where  the 
dying  girl  lay,  and  threw  back  the  covering  "to  see  if  she 
had  really  been  shot."  This  intrusion  almost  threw  her 
into  a  spasm.  This  officer  and  the  other  at  Atlanta  prom- 
ised to  do  all  in  their  power  to  bring  the  guilty  party  to 
justice,  but  nothing  ever  came  of  the  promise,  so  far  as 
we  know. 

As  a  singular  coincidence,  as  well  as  an  illustration  of 
the  lovely  character  of  Sallie,  I  will  relate  a  brief  incident 
given  by  the  gifted  pen  already  quoted :  "One  of  the 
most  vivid  pictures  in  my  memory  is  that  of  Sallie  Dur- 


WOM^N  OP  THEJ  CONJ'KDKRACY  283 

ham  emptying  her  pail  of  blackberries  into  the  hands  of 
Federal  prisoners  on  a  train  that  had  just  stopped  for  a 
moment  at  Decatur,  in  1863.  We  had  been  gathering 
berries  at  Moss's  Hill,  and  stopped  on  our  way  home  for 
the  train  to  pass." 


THE)  NEGRO  AND  THK  MIRACI.E 
[In   Grady's  New   South,  pages  97-118.] 

What  of  the  negro?  This  of  him,  I  want  no  better 
friend  than  the  black  boy  who  was  raised  by  my  side,  and 
who  is  now  trudging  patiently,  with  downcast  eyes  and 
shambling  figure,  through  his  lowly  way  in  life.  I  want 
no  sweeter  music  than  the  crooning  of  my  old  "mammy," 
now  dead  and  gone  to  rest,  as  I  heard  it  when  she  held 
me  in  her  loving  arms  and  bending  her  old  black  face 
above  me  stole  the  cares  from  my  brain,  and  led  me  smil- 
ing into  sleep.  I  want  no  truer  soul  than  that  which 
moved  the  trusty  slave,  who  for  four  years,  while  my 
father  fought  with  the  armies  that  barred  his  freedom, 
slept  every  night  at  my  mother's  chamber  door,  holding 
her  and  her  children  as  safe  as  if  her  husband  stood 
guard,  and  ready  to  lay  down  his  humble  life  for  her 
household.  History  has  no  parallel  to  the  faith  kept  by 
the  negro  in  the  South  during  the  war.  Of  five  hundred 
negroes  to  a  single  white  man,  and  yet  through  these 
dusky  throngs  the  women  and  children  walked  in  safety, 
and  the  unprotected  homes  rested  in  peace.  Unmar- 
shalled,  the  black  battalions  moved  patiently  to  the  fields 
in  the  morning  to  feed  the  armies  their  idleness  would 
have  starved,  and  at  night  gathered  anxiously  at  the  big 
house  to  "hear  the  news  from  marster,"  though  conscious 
that  his  victory  made  their  chains  enduring.  Everywhere 
humble  and  kindly ;  the  body-guard  of  the  helpless ;  the 
observant  friend;  the  silent  sentry  in  his  lowly  cabin; 
the  shrewd  counsellor ;  and  when  the  dead  came  home,  a 
mourner  at  the  open  grave.  A  thousand  torches  would 
have  disbanded  every  Southern  army,  but  not  one  was 
lighted.     When  the  master,  going  to  a  war  in  which 


284  WOMDN  OJ*  THIJ  CONPE:de:rACY 

slavery  was  involved,  said  to  his  slave,  "I  leave  my  home 
and  loved  ones  in  your  charge,"  the  tenderness  between 
man  and  master  stood  disclosed.  And  when  the  slave 
held  that  charge  sacred  through  storm  and  temptation  he 
gave  new  meaning  to  faith  and  loyalty.  I  rejoice  that 
when  freedom  came  to  him  after  years  of  waiting,  it  was 
all  the  sweeter,  because  the  black  hands  from  which  the 
shackles  fell  were  stainless  of  a  single  crime  against  the 
helpless  ones  confided  to  his  care. 

This  friendliness,  the  most  important  factor  of  the 
problem,  the  saving  factor  now  as  always,  the  North  has 
never,  and  it  appears  will  never,  take  account  of.  It  ex- 
plains that  otherwise  inexplicable  thing — the  fidelity  and 
loyalty  of  the  negro  during  the  war  to  the  women  and 
children  left  in  his  care.  Had  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  por- 
trayed the  habit  rather  than  the  exception  of  slavery,  the 
return  of  the  Confederate  armies  could  not  have  stayed 
the  horrors  of  arson  and  murder  their  departure  would 
have  invited.  Instead  of  that,  witness  the  miracle  of  the 
slave  in  loyalty  closing  the  fetters  about  his  own  limbs, 
maintaining  the  families  of  those  who  fought  against  his 
freedom,  and  at  night  on  the  far-off  battlefield  searching 
among  the  carnage  for  his  young  master,  that  he  might 
lift  the  dying  head  to  his  humble  breast  and  with  rough 
hands  wipe  the  blood  away  and  bend  his  tender  ear  to 
catch  the  last  words  for  the  old  ones  at  home,  wrestling 
meanwhile  in  agony  and  love,  that  in  vicarious  sacrifice 
he  would  have  laid  down  his  life  in  his  master's  stead. 
This  friendliness,  thank  God,  survived  the  lapse  of  years, 
the  interruption  of  factions  and  the  violence  of  campaigns 
in  which  the  bayonet  fortified  and  the  drum-beat  inspired. 
Though  unsuspected  in  slavery,  it  explains  the  miracle  of 
1864;  though  not  yet  confessed,  it  must  explain  the 
miracle  of  i! 


ge;orgia  res'ugee:s 

[Mrs.  W.  H.  Felton,  in  Georgia  Land  and  People,  pages  404-405.] 

From  the  time  that  Oglethorpe  planted  his  colony  upon 
Yamacraw  Bluff,  Georgia  has  never  passed  through  such 


WOMEN  01''  THE  CONFEDERACY  285 

an  ordeal  as  the  present.  Nine-tenths  of  her  sons  were 
practicahy  disfranchised  because  they  had  served  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  and  all  the  conditions  of  life  were 
new;  their  servants  were  no  longer  subject  to  their  con- 
trol, and  most  of  their  property  was  scattered  to  the  four 
winds  of  heaven.  It  tested  the  blood  that  had  come  down 
to  them  from  Cavalier  and  Huguenot,  from  Scotch  and 
Irish  ancestry.  The  private  life  of  many  Georgians  for 
the  first  few  years  after  the  war  beggars  description ;  but 
the  women  rose  to  the  occasion. 

The  surrender  found  a  gentle,  shrinking  Georgia 
woman  on  the  Florida  line,  nearly  four  hundred  miles 
from  her  luxurious  home,  from  which  she  had  fled  in 
haste  as  Sherman  "marched  to  the  sea."  The  husband 
was  with  General  Lee  in  Virginia.  The  last  tidings  came 
from  Petersburg — before  Appomattox — and  his  fate  was 
uncertain.  Hiring  a  dusky  driver,  with  his  old  army 
mule  and  wagon,  she  loaded  the  latter  with  the  remnant 
of  goods  and  chattels  that  were  left  to  her,  and,  placing 
her  four  children  on  top,  this  brave  woman  trudged  the 
entire  distance  on  foot,  cheering,  guiding,  and  protecting 
the  driver  and  her  little  ones  in  the  tedious  journey. 
Under  an  August  sun  through  sand  and  dust  she  plodded 
along,  footsore  and  anxious,  until  she  reached  the  dis- 
mantled home  and  restored  her  little  stock  of  earthly 
goods  under  their  former  shelter.  When  her  soldier  hus- 
band had  walked  from  Virginia  to  Georgia,  he  founds 
besides  his  noble  wife  and  precious  children,  the  nucleus 
of  a  new  start  in  life,  glorified  by  woman's  courage  and 
fidelity  under  a  most  trying  ordeal.  For  a  twelve-month 
the  exigencies  of  their  situation  deprived  her  of  a  decent 
pair  of  shoes;  still  she  toiled  in  the  kitchen,  the  garden, 
and,  perhaps,  the  open  fields,  without  a  repining  word  or 
complaining  murmur.  The  same  material  is  found  in  a 
steel  rail  as  in  the  watch  spring,  and  the  only  difference 
between  the  soldier  and  his  wife  was  physical  strength. 

This  was  no  exceptional  case.  The  hardships  of 
Georgia  women  were  extreme  and  long-continued. 


286  WOMKN  o^  th:^  coni^edKracy 

The:  negroes  and  ne:w  ifRE;E:DOM 

[In  Last  Ninety  Days  of  the  War,  pages  186-187.] 

The  negroes,  however,  behaved  much  better,  on  the 
whole,  than  Northern  letter-writers  represent  them  to 
have  done.  Indeed,  I  do  not  know  a  race  more 
studiously  misrepresented  than  they  have  been  and  are  at 
this  present  time.  They  behaved  well  during  the  war; 
if  they  had  not,  it  could  not  have  lasted  eighteen  months. 
They  showed  a  fidelity  and  a  steadiness  which  speaks 
not  only  well  for  themselves  but  well  for  their  training 
and  the  system  under  which  they  lived.  And  when  their 
liberators  arrived,  there  was  no  indecent  excitement  on 
receiving  the  gift  of  liberty,  nor  displays  of  impertinence 
to  their  masters.  In  one  or  two  instances  they  gave 
"missus"  to  understand  that  they  desired  present  payment 
for  their  services  in  gold  and  silver,  but,  in  general,  the 
tide  of  domestic  life  flowed  on  externally  as  smoothly  as 
ever.  In  fact,  though  of  course  few  at  the  North  will 
believe  me,  I  am  sure  that  they  felt  for  their  masters,  and 
secretly  sympathized  with  their  ruin.  They  knew  that 
they  were  absolutely  penniless  and  conquered;  and 
though  they  were  glad  to  be  free,  yet  they  did  not  turn 
round,  as  New  England  letter-writers  have  represented, 
to  exult  over  their  owners,  nor  exhibit  the  least  trace  of 
New  England  malignity.  So  the  bread  was  baked  in 
those  latter  days,  the  clothes  were  washed  and  ironed,  and 
the  baby  was  nursed  as  zealously  as  ever,  though  both 
parties  understood  at  once  that  the  service  was  voluntary. 
The  Federal  soldiers  sat  a  good  deal  in  the  kitchens ;  but 
the  division  being  chiefly  composed  of  Northwestern  men, 
who  had  little  love  for  the  negro,  (indeed  I  heard  some 

d n  him  as  the  cause  of  the  war,  and  say  that  they 

would  much  rather  put  a  bullet  through  an  Abolitionist 
than  through  a  Confederate  soldier,)  there  was  probably 
very  little  incendiary  talk  and  instructions  going  on.  -  In 
all  of  which,  compared  with  other  localities  we  were  much 
favored. 


wome:n  OS*  THE  coni^Dderacy  287 

The:    CONI^EDIiRATE    MUSEUM    IN    THE)    CAPITAL    01^    THE) 
CONFEDERACY 

This  house,  built  for  a  gentleman's  private  residence, 
was  thus  occupied  until  1862,  when  Mr.  Lewis  Crenshaw, 
the  owner,  sold  it  to  the  city  of  Richmond  for  the  use  of 
the  Confederate  government.  The  city,  having  fur- 
nished it,  offered  it  to  Mr.  Davis,  but  he  refused  to  ac- 
cept the  gift.  The  Confederate  government  then  rented 
it  for  the  ''Executive  Mansion"  of  the  Confederate  States. 
President  Davis  lived  here  with  his  family,  using  the 
house  both  in  a  private  and  official  capacity.  The  present 
"Mississippi"  room  was  his  study,  where  he  often  held 
important  conferences  with  his  great  leaders.  In  this 
house,  amid  the  cares  of  state,  joy  and  sorrow  visited 
him;  "Winnie,"  the  cherished  daughter,  was  born  here, 
and  here  "little  Joe"  died  from  the  effects  of  a  fall  from 
the  back  porch.  It  remained  Mr.  Davis's  home  until 
the  evacuation  of  the  city  of  Richmond.  He  left  with  thtf 
government  officials  on  the  night  of  April  2,  1865.  On 
the  morning  of  April  3,  1865,  General  Godfrey  Witzel, 
in  command  of  the  Federal  troops,  upon  entering  the  city, 
made  this  house  his  headquarters.  It  was  thus  occupied 
by  the  United  States  Government  during  the  five  years 
Virginia  was  under  military  rule,  and  called  "District  No. 
I." 

In  the  present  "Georgia"  room,  a  day  or  two  after  the 
evacuation,  Mr.  Lincoln  was  received.  He  was  in  the 
city  only  a  few  hours.  When  at  last  the  military  was  re- 
moved and  the  house  vacated,  the  city  at  once  took  pos- 
session, using  it  as  a  public  school  for  more  than  twenty 
years.  In  order  to  make  it  more  comfortable  for  school 
purposes,  a  few  unimportant  alterations  were  made.  It 
was  the  first  public  school  in  the  city.  War  had  left  its 
impress  on  the  building,  and  the  constant  tread  of  little 
feet  did  almost  as  much  damage.  It  was  with  great  dis- 
tress that  our  people  (particularly  the  women),  saw  the 
"White  House  of  the  Confederacy"  put  to  such  uses, 
and  rapidly  falling  into  decay.  To  save  it  from  destruc- 
tion, a  mass-meeting  was  called  to  take  steps  for  its  res- 


288  WOM^N  OP  THE)  CONI^EDERACY 

toration.  A  society  was  formed,  called  the  "Confeder- 
ate Memorial  Literary  Society,"  whose  aim  was  the  pre- 
servation of  the  mansion.  Their  first  act  was  to  petition 
the  city  to  place  it  in  their  hands,  to  be  used  as  a  memorial 
to  President  Davis  and  a  museum  of  those  never-to-be- 
forgotten  days,  '6 1 -'65.  It  was  amazing  to  see  the  wide- 
spread enthusiasm  aroused  by  the  plan.  With  as  little 
delay  as  possible  the  city,  acting  through  alderman  and 
council,  made  the  deed  of  conveyance,  which  was  ratified 
by  the  then  Mayor  of  Richmond,  the  Hon.  J.  Taylor 
Ellyson. 

The  dilapidation  of  the  entire  property  was  extreme, 
but  to  its  restoration  and  preservation  the  society  had 
pledged  itself.  They  had  no  money — the  city  had 
already  given  its  part — what  could  be  done?  To  raise 
the  needed  funds  it  was  decided  to  hold  a  "memorial  ba- 
zaar" in  Richmond  for  the  joint  benefit  of  the  museum 
and  the  monument  to  the  private  soldier  and  sailor. 

All  through  the  South  the  plan  of  the  museum  and  the 
bazaar  was  heartily  endorsed ;  so  that  donations  of  every 
kind  poured  in!  Each  State  of  the  Confederacy  was  rep- 
resented by  a  booth,  with  the  name,  shield,  and  flag  of 
her  State.  The  whole  sum  realized  was  $31,400.  Half 
of  this  was  given  to  complete  the  monument  to  the  private 
soldiers  and  sailors  now  standing  on  Libby  Hill,  and  the 
other  half  went  to  the  museum. 

The  partition  walls  were  already  of  brick,  and  the 
whole  house  had  been  strongly  and  well  built,  but  the 
entire  building  was  now  made  fireproof,  and  every  other 
possible  precaution  taken  for  its  safety.  In  every  par- 
ticular the  old  house  in  its  entirety  was  preserved,  the 
wood  work  (replaced  by  iron)  being  used  for  souvenirs. 
The  repairs  were  so  extensive  that  the  building  was  not 
ready  for  occupancy  until  late  in  1895. 

On  February  22,  1896,  the  dedication  service  was  held, 
and  the  museum  formally  thrown  open  to  the  public. 

But  the  house  was  entirely  empty.  Rapidly  the 
memorials  were  gathered  from  each  loyal  State  and 
placed  in  their  several  rooms.     From  start  to  finish  the 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  289 

whole  work  has  been  free-will  offering  to  the  beloved 
cause. 

The  treasury  had  been  nearly  exhausted  by  the  restora- 
tion of  the  building.  The  current  expenses  were  met 
only  by  the  strictest  economy,  and  largely  carried  on  by 
faith.  In  the  past  nine  years  much  has  been  accom- 
plished. The  institution  is  free  from  debt ;  and  the  mu- 
seum is  now  widely  known.  But  much  lies  ahead  in  the 
ideal  the  patriotic  women  have  set  before  them  and  the 
work  grows  larger,  more  important  and  far  reaching  as 
it  is  approached.  Such  is  the  interest  felt  in  the  museum 
that  during  the  past  year  they  have  had  7,459  visitors,  of 
whom  3,717  were  from  the  North.  It  is  by  these  door- 
fees  that  the  expenses  are  met. 

It  would  be  quite  impossible  to  enumerate  all  the  arti- 
cles of  interest  to  be  found  here.  The  memorials  gath- 
ered are  not  only  interesting  in  themselves,  but  invaluable 
for  the  truth  and  lessons  which  they  teach.  Historians 
in  search  of  information  can  here  obtain  original  data  ij^ 
regard  to  the  "War  between  the  States."  The  United 
States  Government  has  already  made  use  of  these  records 
for  its  new  Navy  Register.  Each  confederate  State  is 
hereby  represented  by  a  room,  set  apart  in  special  honor 
of  her  sons  and  their  deeds.  A  regent  in  that  State  has  it 
in  charge,  and  is  responsible  for  its  contents  and  appear- 
ance. A  vice-regent  (as  far  as  possible  a  native  of  that 
State,  but  residing  in  Richmond)  gives  her  personal  su- 
pervision to  the  room  and  its  needs.  The  labor  is  in- 
cessant, and  would  be  impossible,  but  for  the  fact  that  it 
is  impelled  by  a  sense  of  sacred  love  and  duty. 

Of  the  women  of  the  Confederacy,  of  our  brave  and 
uncomplaining  soldiers,  of  their  great  leaders,  as  well  as 
of  our  illustrious  chief,  it  well  may  be  said : 

"Would    you    see    their    monument? 
I<ook    around." 

The  Mary  DeRenne  Collection 

The   late   Dr.    Everard    DeRenne   bequeathed    to   the 
Georgia  room  "The  Mary  DeRenne  (of  Georgia)  collec- 
19 


290  WOMDN  OF  TH^  CONI^EDERACY 

tion."  Mrs.  Mary  DeRenne,  of  Savannah,  Ga.,  was  his 
mother,  an  enthusiastic  Georgian,  and  patriotic  Confeder- 
ate. Soon  after  the  close  of  the  war  between  the  States, 
finding  that  an  officer  of  the  Northern  army  was  making 
a  collection  of  Southern  relics,  she  felt  that  there  were 
few  in  the  South  who  had  the  means  to  do  the  same,  but 
that  it  ought  to  be  done.  She  determined  at  once  to 
begin,  and  while  life  lasted  she  spared  neither  effort  nor 
expense  in  gathering  relics,  books,  papers,  and  all  that 
added  to  their  value.  Mrs.  DeRenne  soon  found  that 
persons  were  glad  to  put  together  what  made  history, 
when  isolated  relics  or  papers  told  so  little.  The  result 
tells  an  absorbing  story. 

Miss  C.  N.  Usina,  of  Savannah,  Georgia,  presented  in 
1903  a  liberal  addition  to  this  library. 


I'DDKRAL    DDCORATION    DAY — ADOPTION     I^ROM    OUR     ME- 
MORIAL, 
[Taken  from  Confederate  Dead  in  Hollywood  Cemetery,  page  7.] 

MRS.      JOHN      A.      I,0GAN      WITNESSED     OBSERVANCE      IN     RICHMOND     AND     MADE     THE 

SUGGESTION. 

The  New  York  Herald  contains  the  following  contribu- 
tion from  Mrs.  John  A.  Logan,  in  which  she  says  that 
the  "Decoration  Day"  in  the  North  was  an  adoption  from 
the  South's  "Memorial  Day." 

To  the  editor  of  the  Herald: 

In  the  spring  of  1868,  General  Logan  and  I  were  in- 
vited to  visit  the  battle-grounds  of  the  South  with  a  party 
of  friends.  As  certain  important  matters  kept  him  from 
joining  the  party,  however,  I  went  alone,  and  the  trip 
proved  a  most  interesting  and  impressive  one.  The 
South  had  been  desolated  by  the  war.  Everywhere  signs 
of  privation  and  devastation  were  constantly  presenting 
themselves  to  us.  The  graves  of  the  soldiers,  however, 
seemed  as  far  as  possible  the  objects  of  the  greatest  care 
and  attention. 

One  graveyard  that  struck  me  as  being  especially  pa- 


WOMDN  0^  THE  CONI^EDERACY  29 1 

thetic  was  in  Richmond.  The  graves  were  new,  and  just 
before  our  visit  there  had  been  a  "Memorial  Day"  ob- 
servance, and  upon  each  grave  had  been  placed  a  small 
Confederate  flag  and  wreaths  of  beautiful  flowers.  The 
scene  seemed  most  impressive  to  me,  and  when  I  returned 
to  Washington  I  spoke  of  it  to  the  General  and  said  I 
wished  there  could  be  concerted  action  of  this  kind  all 
over  the  North  for  the  decoration  of  the  graves  of  our 
own  soldiers.  The  General  thought  it  a  capital  idea,  and 
with  enthusiasm  set  out  to  secure  its  adoption. 

At  that  time  he  was  commander-in-chief  of  the  Grand 
Army.  The  next  day  he  sent  for  Adjutant-General 
Chipman,  and  they  conferred  as  to  the  best  means  of  be- 
ginning a  general  observance.  On  the  5th  day  of  May  in 
that  year  the  historic  order  was  put  out.  General  Logan 
often  spoke  of  the  issuing  of  this  order  as  the  proudest  act 
of  his  life. 

It  was  marvelous  how  popular  the  idea  became.  The 
papers  all  over  the  land  copied  the  order,  and  the  observ- 
ance was  a  general  one.  The  memorial  ceremonies  that 
took  place  at  Arlington  that  year  were  perfectly  inspiring 
to  all  the  old  soldiers.  Generals  Grant,  Sherman,  and 
Sheridan  and  many  of  those  who  have  since  passed  away 
attended  the  first  solemn  observance  of  that  day. 

Mrs.  John  A.  Logan. 


the  daughters  and  the  united  daughters  oe  the 
coneederacy 

The  following  valuable  bit  of  history  is  taken  from  the 
Macon  (Ga.)  Telegraph's  account  of  the  meeting  of 
the  United  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  in  Macon,  Oc- 
tober, 1905. 

"In  the  presentation  to  Mrs.  L.  H.  Raines  of  a  gold  pin, 
a  testimonial  from  the  United  Daughters  of  Georgia,  a 
very  pretty  climax  to  the  morning's  session  was  reached. 


292  woM^N  01?  th^  confi;d^racy 

The  speech  with  which  Miss  Mildred  Rutherford  pre- 
sented the  pin  in  behalf  of  the  Daughters  will  be  memor- 
able to  every  one  present,  for  it  was  touched  with  emotion 
and  instruction  as  a  bit  of  history.  Miss  Rutherford  ex- 
plained that  when  the  war  between  the  States  ended,  the 
Ladies'  Aid  Societies  resolved  themselves  into  associa- 
tions whose  work  it  was  to  care  for  the  graves  of  the 
fallen  heroes  and  to  collect  the  bodies  from  far-off  fields. 

"There  was  a  woman  in  Nashville,  who  had  ever  been 
foremost  in  Confederate  work — a  Mrs.  M.  C.  Goodlet, 
who  in  1892  was  president  of  the  auxiliary  to  the  Cheat- 
ham Bivouac.  She  had  just  aided  in  building  the  sol- 
diers' home  near  Nashville  and  felt  that  there  was  a  work 
not  included  in  the  work  of  the  auxiliaries  as  then  con- 
stituted. So  she  resolved  to  form  an  organization  to  be 
called  the  "Daughters  of  the  Confederacy."  The  pur- 
pose of  this  organization  was  to  be  the  care  of  aged  vet- 
erans and  the  wives  and  children  of  veterans,  the  build- 
ing of  monuments,  the  collection  and  preservation  of  re- 
cords. 

"Mrs.  L.  H.  Raines  was  one  of  the  first  to  write  for  in- 
formation to  Mrs.  Goodlet,  and  on  reply  she  took  the 
matter  before  the  Savannah  auxiliary.  This  auxiliary, 
while  not  willing  to  lose  its  individuality  in  the  new.  or- 
ganization, quickly  formed  within  its  own  ranks  a  chap- 
ter of  the  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy.  So  the  charter 
chapter  of  Georgia  came  into  existence." 

Miss  Rutherford  then  related  how  the  chapters  grew 
in  number  until  it  occurred  to  Mrs.  Raines  that  strength 
would  come  through  union.  She  wrote  to  Mrs.  Goodlet 
suggesting  a  "United  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy," 
and  Mrs.  Goodlet  agreed  with  the  idea,  so  that  a  constitu- 
tion and  by-laws  were  formulated  and  a  convention  of  the 
various  chapters  called  at  Nashville  in  1894,  "Mother" 
Goodlet  presiding.  The  convention  of  the  United 
Daughters  at  San  Francisco  formally  recognized  Mrs. 
Goodlet  as  founder  of  the  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy 
and  Mrs.  Raines  as  founder  of  the  United  Daughters. 


WOMEN  OE  THE  CONFEDERACY  293 

A   daughter's   PI.EA 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  Macon  (Ga.) 
Telegraph's  report  of  the  proceedings  of  the  United 
Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  in  Macon  on  the  26th  of 
October,  1905 : 

Mrs.  Plaine  had  not  then  learned  that  Virginia  opened 
last  year  a  large  and  comfortable  home  for  Confederate 
women  on  Grace  street  in  the  city  of  Richmond.  It  is 
a  noble  monument  to  our  mothers  and  grandmothers  and 
a  needed  asylum  for  some  of  the  very  lonely.  Mrs. 
Plaine  among  other  things  said : 

"We  have  corrected  many  falsehoods  disseminated 
throughout  the  South  in  Northern  histories  and  readers, 
substituting  impartial  and  truthful  Southern  books;  and 
we  have  children's  chapters  as  auxiliaries  to  the  United 
Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  that  they  may  learn  even 
more  of  the  imperishable  grandeur  of  the  men  and  women 
of  the  old  South.  But,  my  dear  friends,  have  we  n©t 
failed  in  one  paramount  duty?  Should  we  not  in  all 
these  years  have  made  some  organized  eiffort  for  the  suc- 
cor and  support  of  the  aged  women  of  the  Confederacy 
whose  noble  deeds  we  have  been  busily  recording? 
Texas  is  the  only  State  which  has  made  any  decided  move 
in  this  direction.  The  United  Daughters  of  the  Confed- 
eracy of  that  State  have  purchased  a  lot  in  Austin  and 
have  several  thousand  dollars  towards  bulding  a  home  to 
be  known  as  'Heroines'  Home.'  They  propose  to  have  for 
these  precious  old  ladies  pleasant  and  comfortable  hous- 
ing, good  food  cheerfully  served,  efficient  attendants, 
nurses  and  physicians,  books,  and  all  the  little  pastimes 
with  which  cherished  mothers  should  be  provided  to  keep 
them  satisfied  and  happy  as  the  depressing  shadows  grow 
longer. 

"When  we  of  Atlanta  were  working  so  hard  to  have 
the  State  accept  and  maintain  the  soldiers'  home  which 
had  been  built  by  public  subscription  eight  years  before 
and  was  fast  going  to  decay,  the  only  opposition  we  had 
was  from  those  who  thought  there  were  too  few  soldiers 
left  to  need  such  a  home.     But  what  has  been  the  result 


^94  womdn  o'e  the;  cone'ejddracy 

of  opening  it  to  them?  Why,  hundreds  of  old,  infirm 
and  needy  veterans  have  found  there  a  comfortable  place 
in  which  to  pass  the  remnant  of  their  lives,  and  we  feel 
more  than  repaid  for  our  small  share  in  opening  it  for 
their  use. 

"Now,  in  the  effort  to  establish  a  home  for  the  aged 
women  of  the  Confederacy,  the  same  objection  will  be 
raised  of  'so  few  to  occupy  it.' 

"Where  are  the  women  who  represented  the  six  hun- 
dred thousand  valiant  soldiers  who  constituted  the  grand- 
est army  the  world  has  yet  known  ? 

"Where  are  those  who  with  unflinching  courage  sent 
forth  husbands,  sons,  fathers,  brothers  and  lovers  to 
swell  that  immortal  host  which  marched  and  suffered  be- 
neath the  'Stars  and  Bars?'  Where  the  little  girls  who 
carded  and  spun  and  knitted  to  help  their  mothers  clothe 
the  naked  soldiers?  Where  the  young  girls  who  stood 
by  the  wayside  to  feed  the  hungry  and  quench  the  thirst 
of  the  men  on  their  long  and  weary  marches?  Where 
the  women  who  with  tireless  energy  ministered  night  and 
day  to  the  sick  and  wounded  and  spoke  words  of  hope  to 
the  dying?  Where  those  who  stood  at  the  threshold  of 
desolate  homes  to  welcome  with  smiles  and  loving  ca- 
resses their  uncrowned  heroes,  and  who  by  their  courage 
and  patient  endurance,  amidst  want  and  poverty,  saved 
from  despair  and  even  suicide  the  men  by  whose  heroic 
efforts  a  new  and  greater  South  has  arisen  from  the  ashes 
of  the  old  ? 

"Hundreds  of  these  women,  my  dear  friends,  some  of 
them  once  queens  in  the  old  Southern  society  of  which 
we  still  boast,  and  who  would  even  now  grace  the  court 
of  the  proudest  monarch  on  earth,  are  still  with  us,  but 
many  of  them  in  poverty  and  obscurity,  suffering  in 
silence  rather  than  acknowledge  their  changed  condition. 

"I  know  personally  of  four  cultured,  refined  women, 
born  and  bred  in  luxury,  who  gave  some  of  the  best  years 
of  their  lives  to  help  the  Southern  cause,  and  who  for 
the  love  of  it  still  work  with  their  feeble  hands  to  make 
the  money  with  which  to  pay  their  dues  as  members  of 
the  United  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy. 


WOMEN  Of'  THE  CONEKDERACY  295 

"I  know  of  another,  reared  by  aristocratic,  wealthy 
parents  in  this  city,  who  drove  with  her  patriotic  mother 
almost  daily  to  take  in  their  private  carriage  the  sick  and 
wounded  from  the  trains  to  the  hospitals,  and  who  on  one 
occasion  retired  behind  one  of  the  brick  pillars  of  your 
depot  and  tore  off  her  undergarments  to  furnish  bandages 
for  bleeding  arteries.  She  is  now  quite  advanced  in 
years,  nearly  all  her  relatives  dead,  and  she  is  in  very 
straitened  circumstances.  But  she  is  proud  and  brave 
still,  and  makes  no  moan. 

"A  few  years  ago  it  was  announced  in  an  Atlanta  paper 
that  a  lady  from  Sharpsburg,  Md.,  was  visiting  a  friend 
in  Atlanta.  A  gentleman  in  Griffin,  after  seeing  the  no- 
tice, took  the  next  train  to  Atlanta  and  called  to  see  the 
lady  without  giving  his  name.  As  she  entered  the  parlor 
he  stared  at  her  for  a  moment  and  then  grasped  both 
her  hands  in  his  and  tears  sprang  to  his  eyes  as  he  said 
with  great  emotion,  *Yes,  yes,  this  is  Miss  Julia,  only 
grown  older — the  same  sweet  face  that  looked  so  com- 
passionately into  mine,  and  the  same  person  who  with 
her  beautiful  sister  Alice  and  her  mother,  worthy  to  have 
been  the  mother  of  Napoleon,  nursed  me  into  life  as  you 
did  so  many  poor  fellows  after  that  awful  battle.  I  have 
come  to  take  you  home  with  me.  My  wife  and  children 
love  you  and  all  your  family ;  your  names  are  honored 
household  words  with  us.'  Everything  in  the  fine  old 
mansion  of  that  family  was  literally  soaked  in  the  blood 
of  Southern  soldiers.  To  these  two  young  girls,  Julia 
and  Alice,  scores  of  Southern  families  owe  the  recovery 
of  the  bodies  of  their  dead  upon  the  memorable  and 
bloody  field  of  Antietam  or  Sharpsburg.  Most  of  the 
people  around  there  were  Northern  sympathizers,  and 
took  pleasure  in  desecrating  Confederate  graves,  and 
these  young  ladies,  with  the  assistance  of  a  gentleman, 
who  posed  as  a  Yankee,  made,  secretly,  diagrams  of  the 
burial  places  of  our  dead,  marking  distances  from  trees, 
fences  and  other  objects,  and  sometimes  burying  pieces 
of  iron  or  other  indestructible  articles  near  by,  that  they 
might  be  able,  if  need  be,  to  recover  the  bodies,  and  thus 
many  were  restored  to  their  friends.     So  much  was  this 


296  WOMEiN   OF  the:   CON]P:eDi:RACY 

family  hated  by  the  Yankee  element  in  the  surrounding 
country  it  became  unsafe  for  them  to  keep  a  light  in  the 
house  after  night,  for  fear  of  being  fired  into.  I  have 
myself  seen  since  the  war  the  bullets  which  lodged  in  the 
inside  walls  of  the  rooms.  Just  at  the  close  of  the  war 
these  brave  girls,  in  order  to  send  the  body  of  a  noble 
Confederate  captain  to  his  wife,  then  living  in  Macon, 
drove  with  it  in  a  wagon  seventeen  miles  at  night,  cross- 
ing the  broad  Potomac  in  a  ferryboat,  their  only  com- 
panion a  boy  of  twelve,  and  delivered  the  casket  to  the 
express  agent  at  Leesburg,  Va.  Both  of  these  Southern 
heroines  are  still  living.  Poverty  long  since  overtook 
them;  the  dear  old  home  has  passed  into  strange  hands, 
and  they  are  left  almost  alone — one  a  widow,  the  other 
never  married. 

"Think  you  that  such  as  these  are  not  deserving  the 
help  of  those  of  us  who  have  been  more  fortunate  ?  In  the 
language  of  Mrs.  Vincent,  of  Texas,  a  native  Georgian, 
'because  they  have  stifled  their  cries,  and  in  silent  self- 
reliance  labored  all  these  years  for  subsistence,  are  we 
Daughters  to  close  our  ears  to  their  appeals,  now  that  the 
patient  hands  and  the  feeble  footsteps  hesitate  in  the  on- 
coming darkness?' 

"The  time  will  come — is  already  here — when  marble 
shafts  will  arise  to  commemorate  the  deeds  of  the  Spartan 
women  of  the  South,  but  a  better  and  more  enduring 
monument  would  be  a  home  for  such  of  them  as  are  still 
alive  and  in  need,  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  female  de- 
scendants of  the  men  and  women  of  the  Confederacy  who 
may  yet  become  old  and  homeless,  and  are  eligible  to  the 
United  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy. 

"Memorial  Hall  in  course  of  erection  by  the  Daughters 
of  the  American  Revolution,  commemorative  of  the  deeds 
of  our  Revolutionary  ancestry,  is  a  worthy  and  patriotic 
enterprise,  but  a  home  for  the  aged  heroines  of  the  Con- 
federacy would  serve  not  alone  as  a  memorial  of  our  dead 
heroes  and  heroines,  but  what  is  still  better,  it  would  be 
a  blessing  to  worthy,  suffering  humanity." 


wome;n  of  thej  confederacy  297 

home  for  confederate  women 

[J.  L,.  Underwood.] 

These  women  of  the  South  not  only  work  for  the  men, 
but  when  the  men  undertake  to  work  for  them,  they  take 
up  the  work  and  do  it  for  themselves.  In  March,  1897, 
the  Ladies'  Auxiliary  of  the  George  E.  Pickett  Camp, 
Confederate  Veterans,  began  a  movement  to  establish  a 
home  for  the  wives,  sisters,  and  daughters  of  dead  and 
disabled  Confederate  soldiers.  Of  this  Auxiliary  So- 
ciety Mrs.  R.  N.  Northern  was  president.  Miss  Alice  V. 
Loehr,  secretary.  A  call  was  made  to  the  people  of  the 
State  and  a  Confederate  festival,  in  charge  of  a  commit- 
tee of  which  Mrs,  Mary  A.  Burgess  was  chairman,  was 
held  in  the  Regimental  Armory  in  Richmond  from  the 
19th  to  29th  of  May  for  the  purpose  of  raising  funds. 
The  movement  was  most  heartily  endorsed  by  the  vet- 
erans, by  Governor  C.  T.  O'Ferrall,  and  the  people  gen- 
erally, and  was  continued  to  complete  success.  A  very 
desirable  building  was  secured  on  Grace  street  and  the 
home  dedicated  and  opened  in  1904  and  is  now  occupied 
by  a  number  of  grateful  inmates.  In  all  the  historic  me- 
morials about  noble  old  Richmond  there  is  no  monument 
more  touching  than  this  practical  offering  to  the  women 
of  the  Confederacy.  A  similar  home  has  already  been 
provided  in  Texas  and  the  R.  A.  Smith  Camp  of  Veterans 
at  Macon,  Ga.,  which  recently  laid  the  corner-stone  of  a 
monument  to  the  Confederate  Women,  has  already  begun 
a  movement  for  the  establishment  of  a  home  in  that  city 
and  the  United  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  are  at 
work  for  its  accomplishment. 


JEFFERSON  DAVIS  MONUMENT 
[J.  I,.   Underwood.] 

The  project  to  erect  an  appropriate  monument  to  the 
great  Chieftain  of  the  Confederacy  was  undertaken  by 
the  veterans  years  ago.  They  raised  about  $20,000. 
The  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy,  just  as  they  always 


298  WOMDN  or*  the:   CONf^EDElRACY 

do,  then  took  hold  of  the  matter  and  they  have  increased 
the  fund  to  $70,000.  The  Georgia  United  Daughters  of 
the  Confederacy,  who  have  built  a  Winnie  Davis  dormi- 
tory at  the  Georgia  Normal  School,  have  been  very  active 
in  the  work  for  the  Davis  Monument  at  Richmond,  and 
Georgia  has  the  credit  of  leading  all  the  States  in  the 
amount  contributed.  The  city  of  Richmond  has  donated 
a  very  eligible  lot  at  the  crossing  of  Franklin  and  Cedar 
streets,  near  the  splendid  R.  E.  Lee  monument.  It  is 
fitting  that  the  monuments  to  the  leading  civil  and  mili- 
tary heroes  of  the  great  cause  shall  be  so  near  each  other. 
Very  near  to  these  will  be  monuments  each  to  Gen.  J.  E. 
B.  Stuart,  and  to  Gen.  Fitz  Hugh  Lee.  These  monu- 
ments will  all  stand  in  the  Lee  district,  the  new  and  com- 
ing choice  residence  section  of  the  glorious  city. 

It  is  expected  that  the  splendid  monument  to  Mr.  Davis 
will  be  unveiled  at  the  Confederate  reunion  in  1907. 
Work  has  already  begun  and  the  foundations  are  being 
laid.  Dirt  was  formally  broken  on  the  7th  of  November, 
1905,  by  Mrs.  Thomas  McCullough,  of  Staunton,  presi- 
dent of  the  Davis  Monument  Association.  Hon.  J.  Tay- 
lor Ellyson,  lieutenant-governor  elect,  a  noble  veteran, 
and  others,  also  took  part  in  the  historic  ceremonies.  The 
picks  and  shovels  will  be  preserved  in  the  Confederate 
Museum,  The  monument  will  be  unique  in  its  design 
and  will  worthily  tell  future  generations  of  the  great  man 
and  the  great  cause.  The  writer  confesses  to  a  great 
pleasure,  while  preparing  this  volume,  of  almost  daily 
visits  to  see  the  foundation  work  of  this  monument  going 
on.  He  spent  five  years  of  his  life  in  Mississippi  in  the 
old  days,  and  he  knows  Mr.  Davis  before  our  war  to  have 
been  a  gentleman,  a  patriot,  and  a  Christian,  and  the  kind- 
est of  masters  to  his  slaves.  He  was  a  Chevalier  Bayard, 
a  knight  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  and  yet,  under  the 
responsibility  laid  on  him  by  the  Confederate  States,  he 
became  the  mark  for  all  the  abuse  and  slander  that  could 
be  heaped  on  the  Confederate  cause  by  the  fanatics  among 
our  foes.  His  grave  in  Hollywood  Cemetery  and  the 
Confederate  Memorial  Museum  building,  which  was  Mr. 
Davis's  home  during  the  sad  war,  have  been  precious 


WOMEJN  01^  The;  coni^eidkracy  299 

though  mournful  Meccas  to  the  author  during  many 
months  of  hospital  suffering  in  Richmond,  and,  by 
courtesy  of  the  Ladies'  Memorial  Literary  Society,  a  large 
part  of  the  actual  work  on  this  memorial  volume  was 
done  in  the  very  rooms  occupied  by  our  great  leader. 
May  God  bless  our  noble  women  for  the  monument  which 
promises  to  be  worthy  of  its  mission. 


RECIPROCAI,   SIvAVERY 
[J.  Iy.   Underwood.] 

Humanity  and  kindness  were  the  rule  which  marked 
the  treatment  of  the  slaves  in  the  South.  For  this  the 
Southern  people  have  claimed  no  credit.  A  man  deserves 
no  credit  for  taking  care  of  a  $50  cow.  Much  more  will 
his  very  self  interest  treat  well  a  $250  horse.  How  much, 
more  to  his  interest  to  feed,  house,  clothe  and  nurse  a 
$1,500  negro.  As  in  all  things  human,  there  were  evils 
connected  even  with  Southern  slavery,  and  Southern 
patriots  rejoice  that  it  is  all  gone.  But  history  will  only 
render  simple  justice  to  the  men  and  women  of  the  South 
when  it  records  that  any  real  cruel  treatment  of  the  negro 
was  very  rare. 

The  writer's  life  has  nearly  all  been  spent  in  the  negro 
belts  of  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Georgia  and  South  Caro- 
lina, and  he  knew  of  but  three  cases  where  slave  owners 
were  charged  with  habitual  cruel  treatment  of  the  slaves. 
One  of  these,  in  the  Alabama  canebrake,  gave  his  slaves 
the  best  of  medical  attention,  but  they  were  evidently  not 
supplied  with  the  clothing  they  ought  to  have.  The  other 
two,  one  man  and  one  woman,  had  the  reputation  of  giv- 
ing way  to  a  cruel  temper  when  chastising  their  slaves. 
All  of  them  stood  branded  with  public  odium. 

The  truth  is  that  in  Southern  slavery  there  was  a  sort 
of  mutuality.  The  owner  belonged  to  the  negro  as  truly 
as  the  negro  belonged  to  the  white  man.     In  many  re- 


30O  WOMDN  Olf  THE  CONI^E^DERACY 

spects  the  master  rendered  service  to  the  slave.  The  State 
laws,  to  say  nothing  of  humanity  and  religion,  made  it 
so,  but  you  say  "it  was  a  very  pleasant  sort  of  slavery 
for  the  master."  Yes,  and  a  very  pleasant  sort  of  slavery 
for  the  negro.  They  were  the  jolliest  set  of  working 
people  the  world  ever  saw.  The  chains  of  the  negro 
were  not  the  only  shackles  removed  by  the  great  revolu- 
tion. When  the  time  came  the  slave  owners  felt  that  a 
great  burden  had  been  rolled  from  their  own  shoulders. 

As  far  as  the  writer  knows,  the  universal  feeling  of  the 
slave  owners  was  expressed  in  the  language  of  a  good 
old  couple  who  had  worked  hard  and  finally  become  the 
owners  of  a  hundred  slaves.  Said  the  old  man,  "I 
didn't  enslave  the  negroes,  and  I  didn't  set  them  free, 
and  I  am  glad  the  whole  of  the  great  responsibility  has 
been  lifted  from  my  shoulders."  His  wife,  sitting  by, 
said,  "I  feel  like  a  new  woman.  I  am  now  set  free  from 
a  great  burden." 

The  truth  is,  while  negro  slavery  was  the  most  con- 
venient property  ever  owned  in  America,  it  made  heavy 
and  constant  exactions  of  care,  attention,  and  worry  on 
the  part  of  the  owner.  The  ignorant,  childish  Africans 
needed  a  master  more  than  any  master  needed  them. 
There  lived  near  the  author's  home  in  Sumter  county, 
Ala.,  a  Mr.  Jere  Brown.  He  was  of  a  fine  family  and  a 
graduate  of  South  Carolina  College.  He  was  a  splendid 
type  of  the  intelligent,  polished,  Christian  gentleman  of 
the  old  school.  He  owned  at  least  a  thousand  negro 
slaves  and  kept  them  all  near  him.  While  he  had  over- 
seers and  foremen  to  direct  the  farm  labor,  he  devoted 
all  his  time  to  attendance  upon  his  slaves.  He  was  their 
physician  and  their  nurse  and  very  rarely  ever  left  the 
boundaries  of  his  own  land.  His  slaves  all  loved  him, 
and  it  was  long  said  of  him  that  he  wore  himself  out 
looking  after  the  negroes.  They  belonged  to  him  and 
he  to  them.  This  identity  of  interest,  the  closeness  of 
relationship,  the  mutual,  kind  feeling  between  owners  and 
slaves  was  never  realized  by  the  fanatics  and  party  politi- 
cians of  the  North  until  since  the  emancipation.     The 


woMKN  oi^  the:  confederacy  301 

eyes  of  the  world  have  been  opened  to  the  fact  that  nearly 
all  of  the  substantial  help  for  the  negro's  school,  his 
church  and  for  himself  and  his  family  when  in  distress, 
has  been  rendered  by  the  old  slave  owners  and  their  chil- 
dren. This  practical  help  has  been  rendered  all  over  the 
South. 

Alas !  this  mutual  interest  is  growing  weaker  very  fast. 
The  slave  owners  and  their  children,  the  true  friends  to 
the  negro,  will  soon  be  all  dead.  How  much  sympathy 
the  negro  is  to  get  from  the  next  generation  is  for  the 
negro  himself  to  say.  He  has  used  his  ballot  in  such  a 
way  as  to  cut  himself  off  from  his  neighbors,  employers 
and  life-long  friends;  and  to  bring  down  the  contempt 
of  the  world.  For  years  he  used  it  as  a  bludgeon  to  beat 
the  life  out  of  what  had  been  sovereign  States  and  free 
people.  Later  on  he  has  made  it  a  toy  to  be  sold  for  a 
drink  of  whiskey  or  thrown  into  the  gutter.  The  whole 
American  people  know  this  negro  ballot  to  be  a  travesty 
on  liberty.  His  natural  civil  rights  are  secure  in  the 
North  and  in  the  South.  But  his  own  folly  has  raised 
the  question  of  the  continuance  of  the  privilege  of  voting. 
Anglo  Saxons  will  continue  to  rule  America.  They  are 
not  a  people  who  will  long  put  up  with  child's  play  and 
stupidity  in  politics.  They  mean  business.  And  if  the 
negro  expects  to  use  the  ballot,  he  must  catch  the  step  of 
a  freeman.  He  must  vote  for  the  interest  of  his  State 
and  his  section  and  through  a  prosperous  united  State, 
work  for  the  well  being  of  the  whole  Union.  In  this 
Christian  land  he  has  met  with  unbounded  sympathy  in 
his  helplessness.  That  sympathy  is  being  at  times  sorely 
tried.  It  is  waning,  sadly  waning.  If  he  expects  the 
privilege  of  an  American,  he  must  act  like  an  American. 
It  saddens  the  Confederate  veterans  of  1861  to  see  how 
far  white  and  black  have  drifted  apart  within  the  last 
twenty  years.  The  "friendliness"  of  which  Henry  Grady 
wrote  in  1888  will  not,  it  is  feared,  last  to  1908.  God 
grant  they  may  get  closer  together  in  all  that  makes  for 
the  good  of  both  races. 


302  WOM^N  O^  TH^   CONJ^KD^RACY 

BARBARA  f'RiETCHiK 
[J.  I,.  Underwood.] 

Here  is  a  part  of  the  story  of  the  Maryland  woman  and 
the  Federal  flag  in  the  famous  poem  of  John  G.  Whit- 
tier: 

"Bravest  of  all  in  Fredericktown 

She  took  up  the  flag  the  men  hauled  down; 

In  her  attic  window  the  staff  she  set 

To  show  that  one  heart  was  loyal  yet. 

Up   the   street  came   the  rebel  tread, 

Stonewall  Jackson  riding  ahead: 

Under  his  slouch  hat  left  and  right 

He  glanced;    the  old  flag  met  his  sight. 

"Halt!"  the  dust-brown  ranks  stood  fast, 

"Fire!"     Out  blazed  the  rifle  blast, 

It  shivered  the  window  pane  and  sash. 

It  rent  the  banner  with  seam  and  gash. 

Quick  as  it  fell  from  the  broken  staff. 

Dame  Barbara  snatched  the  silken  scarf." 

This  is  poetry,  but  it  is  not  history.  It  is  not  truth. 
It  does  not  sound  like  it.  Nobody  but  men  like  Whittier, 
blinded  by  New  England  prejudice  and  steeped  in  igno- 
rance of  Southern  people,  would  for  a  moment  have 
thought  Stonewall  Jackson  capable  of  giving  an  order 
to  fire  on  a  woman.  None  of  the  story  sounds  at  all  like 
"Stonewall  Jackson's  way,"  To  their  credit  the  later  edi- 
tions of  Whittier's  poems  cast  a  grave  doubt  on  the  truth 
of  the  story,  and  now  Mr.  John  McLean,  an  old  next- 
door  neighbor  to  the  genuine  Barbara  Frietchie,  has  given 
to  Mr.  Smith  Clayton,  of  the  Atlanta  Journal,  the  true 
story  showing  Whittier's  tale  to  be  nothing  but  a  myth. 
Mr.  Clayton  says : 

"Coming  up  to  Washington  from  Richmond  the  other 
day  I  brushed  up  an  acquaintance  with  a  very  pleasant, 
intelligent  and,  by  the  way,  handsome  gentleman,  Mr. 
John  McLean,  a  conductor  on  the  Richmond,  Fredericks- 
burg and  Washington  Railroad.  In  the  course  of  con- 
versation he  mentioned  Frederick,  Md.  I  laughed  and 
said: 

"Did  you  ever  meet  Barbara  Frietchie?" 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,"  he  replied,  "she  lived  just  across 
the  street  from  my  father's  home." 

"You  don't  say  so  ?" 

"It's  a  fact ;  and  let  me  tell  you,  that  poem  is  a  'fake,' 


WOMEN   OF  THE   CONFEDERACY  303 

pure  and  simple.  I  was  a  child  during  the  war,  but  I'll 
give  you  the  truth  about  Barbara  Frietchie  as  I  got  it 
from  the  lips  of  my  father  and  mother." 

And  then  he  told  me  this  interesting  story : 

"Ever  been  to  Frederick  ?" 

"No." 

"Well,  just  where  the  turnpike  enters  the  town  my 
father  and  mother  lived  in  the  old  homestead.     Directly 
across  the  way  lived  Mr.  Frietchie.     He  was  a  tailor,  and 
a  good,  clever  man  and  honest  citizen.     His  house  had 
two  stories.     On  the  ground,  or  street  floor,  was  his  shop. 
The  family  lived  up  stairs.     There  was  a  balcony  to  the 
upper  story  of  the  house  facing  the  street.     It  was  from 
that   balcony   that   the   flag   was    waved,    but    Barbara 
Frietchie  had  no  more  to  do  with  it  than  you.     General 
Stonewall   Jackson,    returning   from   Monocacy,   passed 
through  Frederick  at  the  head  of  his  army.     He  entered 
the  town  by  the  turnpike  and  marched  between  the  house 
of  Mr.  Frietchie  and  the  home  of  my  parents.     There  was 
a  United  States  flag  in  the  tailor's  house.     His  eldest 
daughter,  Mary  Quantrell,  thinking  that  the  Union  army 
was  coming,  mistaking  Jackson's  men  for  the  Federals, 
seized  this  flag,  ran  out  upon  the  balcony  and  waved  it. 
Observing  her,  General  Stonewall  Jackson,  who  was  rid- 
ing at  the  head  of  his  troops,  took  off  his  hat,  and  ordered 
his  men  to  uncover  their  heads.     They  did  so,  and  Gen- 
eral Jackson  said  that  he  gave  the  order  to  uncover  be- 
cause he  wanted  his  men  to  show  proper  appreciation  of 
a  woman  who  had  the  loyalty  and  patriotism  to  stand  up 
for  her  side.     Those  are  the  facts.     My  parents  were 
there.     They  told  me.     I  tell  you.     There  was  no  stick- 
ing any  flag  staff  in  any  window.     No  order  by  General 
Jackson  to  'Halt'  and  'Fire;'    no  seizing  of  the  flag  and 
waving  it  after  it  had  been  shot  from  the  staff;   no  beg- 
ging General  Jackson  to  shoot  anybody's  grey  head  but 
to  'spare  the  flag  of  his  country' — all  of  this  is  described 
in  the  poem — but  none  of  it  happened.    Very  funny  about 
Barbara  Frietchie  being  four  score  and  ten.'  " 
"Who  was  Barbara  Frietchie?" 
"Why  she  was  the  young  daughter  of  Mr.  Frietchie — 


304  WOM^N  OF  The;  coNi^EDERAcy 

the  young  sister  of  Mary  Quantrell,  who  waved  the  flag — 
that's  all." 

Mr.  McLean  told  me  that  he  had  three  brothers  in  the 
Federal  army.  His  brother  was  doorkeeper  of  the  Mary- 
land assembly,  and  his  uncle  a  member  during  the  stormy 
sessions  held  at  Frederick,  when  that  body  hotly  dis- 
cussed, for  many  days,  the  question  as  to  whether  Mary- 
land should  secede. 


SOCIAI,  EQUAUTY  BETWEEN  THE  RACES 
[J.  Li.   Underwood.] 

When  the  men  of  the  writer's  generation  see  or  read 
of  the  growing  sensitiveness  in  all  parts  of  the  country, 
at  the  North  and  South,  as  to  negro  social  equality,  there 
rush  up  memories  from  the  days  of  slavery  that  make  the 
present  jealousy  to  some  extent  ridiculous.  As  to  re- 
ligious equality,  the  slaves  joined  the  churches  of  their 
own  choice.  In  the  cities  there  were  some  churches  com- 
posed entirely  of  negro  slaves  and  nearly  all  had  white 
preachers.  The  country  has  had  few  if  any  preachers 
more  eloquent  and  accomplished  than  Dr.  Giradeau,  who 
in  late  years  was  professor  in  the  Presbyterian  Theologi- 
cal Seminary  at  Columbia,  S.  C.  He  spent  all  of  his 
ministry  up  to  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  as  pastor  of 
one  of  these  negro  churches  in  Charleston. 

In  the  country  towns  and  villages  seats  were  provided 
for  the  negroes  to  attend  the  1 1  o'clock  and  night  services 
of  the  whites.  They  shared  in  the  ordinances  and  com- 
muned from  the  same  plate  and  cup  in  perfect  Christian 
equality  with  the  whites.  In  the  afternoon  the  house  was 
turned  over  to  their  exclusive  use  and  the  white  pastor 
was  required  to  preach  to  them  and  worthy  preachers 
from  among  themselves  were  always  encouraged.  It  al- 
ways appeared  to  the  writer,  all  through  his  boyhood 
days,  that  the  white  preachers  preached  better  sermons  to 
the  negroes  than  they  did  to  the  whites.  The  negro  was 
thus  blessed  with  the  most  thorough  and  efficient  evan- 
gelist work  ever  done  for  the  benighted.  The  negroes 
trained  under  it  have  been  the  salt  of  the  earth  to  their 


womkn  0^  The:  coni^kdKracy  305 

race  in  their  churches  since  the  war.  In  those  days  in 
the  South  the  white  evangeHst  Philhp  rode  in  the  wagon 
with  the  Ethiopian  and  taught  him,  and  both  were  blessed. 
When  the  lamented  good  old  deacon  Alex.  Smith,  of 
Thomasville,  Ga.,  was  ordained  a  deacon,  one  of  the  or- 
daining elders  was  his  negro  slave.  At  Bainbridge,  Ga., 
Rev.  Jesse  Davis  officiated  as  a  member  of  the  Presbytery 
ordaining  to  the  ministry  his  slave,  Ben.  Munson.  What 
a  calamity  that  this  close  brotherly  association  in  reli- 
gious matters  should  have  been  so  rudely  broken  in  many 
directions  by  the  politics  of  the  wild  reconstruction  which 
was  forced  on  the  South. 

At  home  some  features  of  the  life  amounted  to  more 
than  social  equality.  There  was  "mammy,"  for  instance, 
the  good  old  negro  nurse,  housekeeper,  hospital  matron, 
superintending  cook,  boss  of  the  whole  family,  and  what 
not.  She  was  father's  friend  to  counsel  and  cheer  him, 
and  she  was  mother's  staff  and  companion.  To  us  chil- 
dren she  was  just  everything.  Those  strong  old  arms 
supported  us  in  babyhood  and  dandled  us  and  fondled 
us  in  childhood.  Her  old  bosom  was  a  city  of  refuge 
from  even  the  pursuing  father  and  mother.  How  quietly 
peach-tree  switches  dropped  from  parental  hands  when 
Mammy  begged  for  us.  Mammy's  cabin  was  the  white 
children's  paradise.  Well  does  the  writer  remember  that 
when  his  mother  had  to  take  a  trip  for  her  health  away 
from  home,  he  and  a  sister  a  little  older  than  himself  were 
left  in  the  home  of  a  neighboring  kindred  to  be  cared  for. 
Kinsfolk  did  very  well  till  night  approached,  then  our 
poor  little  hearts  sighed  for  home  and  we  ran  away  to 
Mammy  Cynthia  and  remained  in  her  cabin  and  slept  in 
her  arms  in  her  nice  clean  bed  'antil  mother's  return.  The 
most  cruel  work  done  by  the  reconstruction  politics  was 
to  enforce  the  orders  of  the  carpet-baggers  and  scala- 
wags in  compelling  these  "mammies"  to  forsake  their 
old  "missus"  and  old  homes.  Many  of  them  never  could 
be  tempted  or  forced  to  leave  the  old  home. 

Then  there  was  "Daddy  Jacob,"  the  nabob  of  the  farm. 
Like  "mammy"  he  was  given  just  enough  work  to  keep 


306  W0ME;N   O^  TH^   CONI^EDElRACy 

up  appearances  and  keep  him  in  practice.  But  it  was 
usually  special  work,  like  presiding  at  the  gin  or  hauling 
with  the  two-ox  wagon.  Many  a  meal  has  the  little 
white  boy  eaten  from  old  daddy's  dinner  bucket  or  from 
the  blue-edged  plates  in  his  cabin. 

Then  there  was  "Mandy,"  the  young  girl  given  by  the 
parents  to  her  young  white  mistress  near  her  age.  Mandy 
caught  Miss  Mary's  manners,  fell  heir  to  her  dresses  and 
bonnets,  waited  on  the  table,  joined  the  children  in  their 
sports,  and  felt  that  she  was  about  as  good  as  anybody. 
And  she  was,  until  the  devil  came  along  with  the  bayonets 
and  brought  the  monster  curse  to  the  negro,  the  "Yankee 
school  marm."  These  women  were  deluded,  blind  guides 
of  the  blind  Africans.  Reconstruction  work  has  left  the 
negro  women,  especially  the  young  ones,  the  most  giddy, 
most  idle  and  aimless  and  the  least  virtuous  of  any  set 
of  women  in  any  civilized  country.  The  white  Yankee 
school  teachers  sent  down  South  by  the  thousands,  forty 
years  ago,  sowed  the  seed  of  false  notions  of  life  and 
duty  and  opportunity,  and  the  country  is  now  afflicted 
with  the  harvest. 

"Jere"  was  the  negro  boy  companion  of  young  "Mars 
Henry."  He  and  Mars  Henry  played  marbles  together, 
fished  or  swam  the  millpond,  searched  the  woods  for 
chinquapins  or  hickory  nuts.  They  rode  on  the  same 
lever  at  the  old  gin  and  leaped  into  the  lint  room  together 
to  pack  back  the  loose  cotton,  and  then  mounted  the  mules 
and  rode  them  to  the  barn.  But  the  'possum  hunt  was 
the  glory  of  Henry  and  Jere's  united  life.  After  supper, 
in  which  Henry  had  swapped  biscuit  from  the  table  for 
Jere's  pork  and  roasted  potatoes  or  sweet  ash  cake,  they 
would  put  a  few  potatoes  in  their  pockets,  gather  an  axe, 
whistle  up  old  "Tige,"  the  dog,  and  were  soon  away  in 
the  woods.  When  the  game  was  captured,  and  a  failure 
was  a  rare  thing,  with  the  nocturnal  Nimrods,  a  small 
short  hickory  pole  was  split  and  the  tail  of  the  'possum 
inserted  in  the  crack  and  soon  each  boy  had  a  'possum 
pole  on  his  shoulder.  But  a  boy  gets  sleepy  quickly. 
Worn  out  with  their  ramble  they  would  rake  up  a  pile 
of  leaves  on  the  south  side  of  a  big  log,  kindle  a  fire  near 


WOMDN   01?  the:   CONIfE;DE;RACY  1307 

their  feet  and  put  the  potatoes  to  roasting.  "Tige"  knew 
what  it  all  meant  and  he  enjoyed  the  camping  too.  He 
would  lie  next  to  the  'possums  so  that  he  could  keep  an 
eye  on  them.  (The  writer's  Tige  had  but  one  eye.)  A 
'possum  is  the  meekest  of  all  animals,  when  you  get  his 
tail  in  a  vice  and  a  dog  in  three  feet  of  him.  Jere  would 
lie  next  to  Tige,  close  enough  to  get  some  of  his  warmth, 
and  Mars  Henry  would  lie  close  to  Jere.  With  their  feet 
to  the  fire  they  got  a  few  hours  of  the  sweetest  sleep  the 
world  ever  gave.  It  was  Mars  Henry's  active,  rollick- 
ing, rough  and  tumble  open-air  life  with  Jere  that  gave 
such  vigor,  in  camp  and  on  the  march,  to  the  Confederate 
soldier. 

The  only  man  who  has  understood  the  negro,  knew 
his  wishes  and  his  failings,  knew  how  to  be  kind  to  him 
when  a  slave,  and  a  safe  counsellor  now  that  he  is  free, 
is  the  man  who,  when  a  boy,  played  with  Jere  and  slept 
by  his  side  in  the  midnight  campfire.  It  is  mammy's  peo- 
ple, and  daddy  Jacob's  and  Mandy's  and  Jere's  people, 
that  understand  the  negro  and  have  always  been  his  best 
friends.  Had  the  country  abided  by  Grant  and  Sherman 
and  Lincoln  and  Johnson  as  to  the  status  of  the  restored 
Union  and  left  the  rights  of  the  emancipated  slaves  in  the 
hands  of  their  old  owners  and  their  interests  to  be  reg- 
ulated by  the  Mars  Henrys  of  the  South  how  much  bet- 
ter it  would  have  been  for  the  poor  negro  and  infinitely 
better  for  the  white  people.  Southern  people  know  best 
how  far  the  negro  may  go  and  where  it  is  best  for  him 
to  stop.  Now  when  the  fearful  problems  which  have 
been  brought  about  by  vindictive  politics,  personal  de- 
moralization and  fanatical  race  prejudices,  for  which  the 
people  of  the  South  are  not  responsible,  the  whole  coun- 
try is  beginning  to  realize  that  if  these  problems  are  to  be 
solved  in  the  negro's  favor  he  himself  is  to  do  the  solv- 
ing. "Mars  Henry"  and  "Jere"  would  once  have  died 
for  each  other.  But  "Mars  Henry"  can't  help  "Jere" 
much  now.  Reconstruction  politics  led  "Jere"  too  far 
away  from  "Mars  Henry"  and  kept  him  too  long.  In  a 
very  few  years  there  will  be  no  "Mars  Henry,"  no  "Jere." 


3o8  WOM^N  05*  tut  CONI^IlDKRACY 

"Mars  Henry's"  children  know  how  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves. May  God  teach  poor  "Jere's"  children  to  work 
out  their  own  good. 


DREAM  OE  RACE  SUPERIORITY 
[J.  L.  Underwood.] 

In  a  previous  article  the  author  has  given  an  account 
of  what  was  nearer  social  equality  between  the  white  and 
black  races  than  will  ever  again  be  seen  in  the  South  or 
anywhere  else.     But  the  deluded  negro  has  been  led  to 
look   for  something  higher   than  social   equality.     The 
most  awfully  destructive  work  done  by  the  Northern  at- 
tempt to  reconstruct  Southern  society  has  been  seen  in 
the  complete  demoralization  of  the  generation  of  the 
negroes  succeeding  the  playmates  of  the  young  South- 
erners of  1861-1865.     They  were  thrown  directly  under 
Northern  teachers  profoundly  ignorant  of  the  negro  race, 
their  condition,  and  their  danger ;  but  teachers  supremely 
bent  on  injury,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  white  people 
of  the  South.     From  them  and  the  literature  which  they 
circulated,  and  his  own  folly,  the  young  negroes  became 
imbued  with  the  idea,  not  of  social  equality  with  the  white 
people,  but  of  social  superiority  to  them.     They  them- 
selves were  heralded  in  the  highest  places  as  the  "wards 
of  the  nation;"  the  white  people  were  branded  as  its 
enemies ;  they  were  the  lions  and  the  heroes  of  the  revo- 
lution, the  white  people  were  its  victims.    They  were  the 
acknowledged  pets  of  the  triumphant  Northern  people, 
while  the  whites  were  their  doomed  enemies.     They  were 
to  have  offices,  endowments,  and  bounties  from  the  gov- 
ernment.      This  government  gave  them  a  Freedmen's 
Bank  and  a  Freedmen's  Bureau  and  they  saw  no  bank 
nor  bureau  for  white  people.     They  saw  the  white  people 
to  whom  nothing  was  promised  with  no  prospect  but  that 
of  poverty  and  degradation.     The  North  gave  them  col- 
leges and  the  South  taxed  itself  to  give  them  schools. 
They  were  lauded  in  Congress,  on  the  hustings,  in  the 
Northern  pulpits,  and  in  the  party  newspapers,  as  the  in- 


WOMEN  OF  THE  CONFEDERACY  309 

nocent  Uncle  Tom-like,  angelic  people  who  were  to  re- 
deem the  South  and  glorify  America,  while  the  white  peo- 
ple, only  living  by  Northern  sufferance,  were  branded  as 
traitors  and  rebels  and  enemies  of  the  government.  To 
insure  the  triumph  of  the  negro  and  the  degradation  of 
Southern  whites  Congress  kept  the  ominous  Force  Bills 
before  the  public.  Who  can  wonder  that  the  heads  of 
these  poor  ignorant  people  were  turned  and  their  moral 
natures  poisoned  ? 

Then,  with  all  this,  came  the  awful  lawlessness  under 
which  this  young  generation  grew  up.  There  was  no 
longer  "old  massa  and  old  missus"  to  see  that  they  were 
controlled.  Their  parents  gave  way  to  delusive  dreams 
and  devoted  their  energies  to  "going  to  town"  by  day 
"going  to  meetin'  "  by  night.  Home  life  in  the  family 
was,  and  is  to  this  day,  almost  a  thing  unknown.  There 
was  no  parental  control  whatever.  When  undertaken 
much  of  it  was  so  childish  or  so  brutal  as  to  do  more  _ 
harm  than  good.  Some  of  these  boys  went  to  school 
enough  to  learn  to  read  a  little  and  sign  their  names,  and 
right  there  the  most  of  them  graduated.  A  large  portion 
cannot  read  now.  They  seldom  went  to  church,  except 
just  enough  to  be  baptized  and  to  join  in  a  special  revival 
shout  of 

"We  are  all  going  to  heaven, 
Hallelujahl" 

At  other  times  when  they  did  go  they  stood  out  on  the 
church  grounds  and  smoked  cigarettes.  The  negro 
preachers,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  knew  nothing  and 
could  teach  nothing.  The  aim  of  most  of  them  seemed 
to  be  to  have  a  happy  Sunday  religion  and  enjoy  the 
honor  of  religious  office  and  prominence.  What  a 
passion  this  has  been  with  the  free  negro.  Then  the 
inevitable  collection  of  the  preacher,  and  all  would  scatter 
without  a  thought  of  a  religion  to  make  good  their  lives 
through  the  remaining  six  days  of  the  week.  Mrs. 
Stowe's  Topsy  said  she  did  not  know  anything  about  her- 
self except,  "I  specs  I  growed."  Those  young  reconstruc- 
tion negroes  just  "growed."  They  "growed"  without 
law  at  their  so-called  homes ;  they  "growed"  ignorant  of, 


3IO  W0ME;N  01^  the;   CONIfElDDRACY 

or  defiant  of  the  laws  of  the  State,  and  they  "growed" 
without  any  aim  except  self-indulgence  in  ease  and  pleas- 
ure. 

Then  there  before  their  eyes  rose  the  Paradise  tree  of 
the  forbidden  fruit — the  white  women  beyond  their  reach. 
There  was  in  every  State  the  law  against  intermarriage 
of  the  white  and  black  races  which  stood  and  will  stand 
in  Median  and  Persian  unchangeableness.  Then  came, 
wherever  these  young  negroes  were  scattered,  at  the 
North  as  well  as  the  South,  the  mighty  resolve  of  passion, 
pride,  and  revenge — "these  white  women  are  ours,  we  are 
better  than  they  are,  they  shall  not  be  monopolized  by 
white  men." 

The  record  is  awful  and  the  blackest  page  of  American 
history.  This  is  the  saddest  chapter  the  author  has  ever 
written.  He  has  been  all  his  long  life  known  and  recog- 
nized by  the  negroes  as  one  of  their  best  friends.  There 
is  nothing  but  sorrow  in  his  heart  over  the  wide-spread 
demoralization  of  the  negro  race.  He  and  all  other  true 
Southern  men  rejoice  over  the  great  progress  of  the  few. 
He  deplores  the  enslavement  and  degradation  of  the  many 
by  whiskey,  idleness,  and  lust.  The  strong,  young  Afri- 
can tiger  has  been  found  lurking,  not  in  American 
jungles,  but  in  American  homes,  highways,  barns  and 
fields.  His  arch  crime  woman  cannot  hear  named.  And 
to  mention  it  to  Southern  men  is  to  make  their  blood 
boil  in  their  veins  and  their  brains  to  reel. 

The  heroism  of  Southern  women  cannot  be  told  with- 
out this  dark  page.  The  trials  of  the  war  were  nothing 
compared  to  the  ordeal  through  which  Southern  women 
have  just  passed.  In  the  wreck  of  the  South  brought  on 
by  Northern  ballots  and  bayonets,  the  culminating  dam- 
age is  the  demoralization  of  the  generation  of  negroes 
now  recently  grown.  In  the  face  of  the  worse  than 
Gorgan  horrors  our  women  have  borne  themselves  with 
a  courage,  a  patience,  and  fortitude  that  are  sublime.  But 
let  friends  of  the  negro  and  friends  of  our  women  hope. 
Thank  God,  the  crime  is  on  the  decrease.  White  men 
somehow  will  protect  such  women  as  God  has  given  our 
sunny  land.     The  tiger  is  on  the  retreat,  and  thousands 


WOMEN  OF  THE   CONFEDERACY  3II 

of  the  negro  race  are  awakening  to  the  fact  that  there 
must  speedily  be  another  emancipation,  a  redemption  of 
their  sons  and  daughters  from  their  new  slavery.  The 
negro  has  had  race  emancipation;  he  needs  family 
emancipation  and  personal  emancipation  from  the 
chains  of  sense  and  appetite.  Good  negroes  are  working 
and  praying  for  it.  The  negroes  must  break  their  own 
chains  this  time.  But  let  patriotic  and  Christian  white 
men  help  them  everywhere. 


ROOSEVEET  AT  EEE'S  MONUMENT 

"Come  Closer,  Comrades!" 

[J.  E.  Underwood.] 

When  the  victorious  Federal  army  marched  home,  at 
the  close  of  the  war  between  the  States,  the  famous 
Brooklyn  preacher,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  said  that  in 
twenty-five  years  any  man  in  America  would  be  ashamed 
to  admit  that  he  was  ever  a  Confederate  soldier.  And 
yet  in  twenty-five  years  half  of  the  Cabinet  at  Washing- 
ton was  composed  of  Confederate  soldiers.  In  little  more 
than  twenty-five  years  the  country  sees  William  McKin- 
ley,  the  Republican  President  of  the  United  States,  him- 
self a  veteran  of  the  Federal  army,  down  among  the  Con- 
federate veterans  in  Georgia,  wearing  the  Confederate 
badge,  and  otherwise  fraternizing  as  a  soldier  with  those 
who  wore  the  gray,  and  in  his  official  capacity  calling 
upon  Congress  to  care  for  the  graves  of  the  dead  Con- 
federate soldiers  just  as  the  Government  provides  for  the 
dead  who  wore  the  blue.  And  the  whole  country,  North 
and  South,  applauded  the  noble  McKinley. 

Here  is  President  Roosevelt,  forty  years  after  the  war, 
making  the  same  recommendations  and  Congress  actually 
restoring  the  captured  battle  flags  to  the  several  Southern 
States.  It  is  a  pity  Beecher  didn't  live  to  be  in  Richmond, 
Va.,  on  the  i8th  of  October,  1905,  and  see  President 
Roosevelt  by  special  appointment  meet  the  Confederate 
Veterans  at  the  foot  of  the  monument  of  General  Robert 


312  woMKN  o^  THi;  confi:di:racy 

E.  Lee.  When  he  began  his  talk  he  said,  "Come  closer, 
comrades."  The  President  of  the  United  States  calling 
those  old  "rebels"  of  Beecher  his  comrades  and  all  the 
way  on  his  long  Southern  tour,  having  at  his  own  re- 
quest a  voluntary  escort  at  every  point  composed  of  the 
veterans  from  both  armies ! 

Shade  of  Beecher !  Come  back  to  Washington  and  see 
President  and  Cabinet  and  Congress  and  Army  and  Navy 
gather  in  tears  around  the  coffin  and  do  the  grand  honors 
at  the  grave  of  the  Confederate  General  Wheeler ! 

The  truth  is  the  true  comrades  from  both  sides  have 
been  coming  "closer"  to  each  other  ever  since  the  blood- 
shed at  Gettysburg  and  Vicksburg,  whenever  the  poli- 
ticians would  let  them.  The  old  "vets"  understand  each 
other  whether  other  people  do  or  not.  We  are  "comrades" 
indeed.  Now,  comrades  of  the  North,  let  an  old  "Con- 
federate vet"  who  has  gloried  in  the  privilege  of  fre- 
quently grasping  your  hands  for  forty  years,  say  a  part- 
ing word  to  you.  Your  country  is  our  country.  Your 
heroes  are  our  heroes.  We  claim  the  honor  of  having 
such  patriotic  countrymen  as  Lincoln,  such  heroes  as 
Thomas,  Meade  and  Hancock,  and  McClellan  and  Grant, 
and  McPherson  and  Farragut.  If  there  were  such  men 
as  Butler  and  Milroy  and  Hunter,  they  were  our  country- 
men, too,  and  if  they  did  things  worthy  of  condemnation, 
let  Southerners  condemn  them  with  a  feeling  of  sorrow 
over  the  failings  of  erring  countrymen — just  as  Northern 
men  should  look  truthfully  at  the  lives  of  Southern  lead- 
ers and  condemn,  when  it  is  just,  but  condemn  in  sorrow 
our  erring  countrymen. 

But,  comrades,  "come  closer."  Read  the  humble 
tribute  of  this  book  to  the  memory  of  Southern  women 
of  1861-1865.  They  were  your  countrywomen.  Their 
virtues  are  the  glory  of  all  America.  We  have  tried  to 
help  you  and  the  world  to  know  them  better.  We  have 
all  come  forth  from  the  ashes  now.  We  are  rejoicing  in 
a  prosperous  South  and  a  prosperous  North.  Our 
women  nobly  did  their  part  in  the  war  and  nobly  have 
they  helped  to  rebuild  the  South,  not  only  for  our  chil- 
dren, but  for  your  sons  and  your  daughters.    Our  sunny 


WOM^N  OF*  THD   CONFEDERACY  313 

South  belongs  to  the  whole  country.  Our  noble  women 
and  their  children  love  their  whole  country.  They  have 
shown  themselves  true  to  principle  and  true  to  duty. 
"Come  closer,  comrades,"  and  study  these  Southern 
women.  If  you  find  anything  wrong  in  their  spirit  or 
conduct,  hold  it  up  to  just  retribution.  If  they  have  set 
a  glorious  example  of  courage,  of  sacrifice  and  of  patriot- 
ism, help  your  children  and  our  children  to  "come  closer" 
in  following  their  example. 


LJ 


